


Muted symphony

by Denstort



Category: Muse
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Friendship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-02-20 12:45:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 21,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2429315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denstort/pseuds/Denstort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dominic Howard thought his life would be normal, buying the coffee shop. But life, as they say, can have other ideas.</p><p>Part 1 of " Music Heals All Things" Series</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dominic Howard stepped into his coffee shop, ready for another busy day as its new owner. It had taken several weeks to renovate and redecorate, bur finally he’d re-opened.

Business had been brisk and he’d kept the old staff, as they knew the customers. This left him free to stand and observe. He was cleaning the coffee machine, when Suzy, one of the part-timers said.

“Here he comes.”

Dominic looked up, a young man, well he assumed it was a young man had entered. He couldn’t tell under the coat that seemed way too big for him.

Suzy started making one of their speciality chocolates.

“And who is he?” Dominic asked.

“That’s Matthew,” she replied as she whipped the chocolate and added marshmallows, ten Dominic counted.

The coated figure approached and finally pushed the hood of the coat back, to reveal a shock of black hair. But that was all Dominic saw, as the owner of the shock of hair kept their head down.

The owner of the shock of hair put several coins down, and Suzy pushed the mug over in exchange. The mug was taken and the shock of black hair sat at the table by the window.

“Well, that’s a bit rude. He didn’t even say thank you.”

“He never has,” Suzy replied. “He hasn’t spoken a word for as long as he’s been coming in here.”

“So, how do you know his name?”

“Of course, you wouldn’t know the story.”

Several customers came in and by the time they’d been served, the table by the window was empty.

After they’d closed and were cleaning, Dominic said.

“Tell me about my silent customer?”

“Matthew Bellamy, it was such a sad thing. There was a fire at their house, his whole family died, he nearly did as well…smoke inhalation. Arson it was, but no-one was ever caught. He hasn’t spoken a word in ten years.”

“That’s awful,” Dominic said. “So, he’s on his own?”

“Oh, he had family, but they didn’t want to know.”

“Poor sod. So he went into care?”

“No, a friend of the family fostered him. Nice family, taking on a ten year old.”

Oh, so he is young then, Dominic thought.

“He comes in every week, same day, same time. Has the same thing, and he likes that table by the window”

Dominic locked the shop and as he walked home, he found his mind was on that silent figure.Before he’d brought the shop, he’d been a counsellor. But it had become too much and he’d stepped away.

But he couldn’t stay away and had volunteered for the local Victim Support Group, and now he found he wanted to help his silent customer.

*********************

The next time Matthew came in, he wasn’t alone. A tall well-built man was with him, and after seating Matt, he approached the counter.

“Are you the owner?” he asked.

Dominic felt a little nervous; the man was twice his size.

“I am, can I help you?”

The man stuck out his hand, “Chris Wolstenholme, Matt’s step-brother.”

Dominic felt somewhat relieved.

“Dominic Howard.”

“Can I have a word, in private?”

“Certainly, my office is this way.”

Dominic closed the door and perched on his desk.

“So, what can I help you with?”

The man shifted in his seat before speaking.

“I’m guessing the girls have told you about Matt?”

Dominic nodded.

“And you don’t mind that he never speaks?”

“Of course not, but I’m sensing that’s not why you’re here, Mr Wolstenholme?”

“Please, call me Chris, and yes. I just wanted to make sure that Matt is paying for his drinks. He forgets sometimes, not deliberately, he’s too much in his own world sometimes.”

“Well, he hasn’t yet.”

“That’s good, but if he does, here’s my mobile number. Give me a call and I’ll come in and pay.”

He put a card on the desk, then said.

“If he does forget, it’s best not to try and remind him…not that he would be a problem.”

“Mr Wolstenholme…sorry, Chris, judging by what I’ve seen and been told, I wouldn’t do that.”

When Chris looked puzzled, he said.

“I volunteer with Victim Support as a counsellor. I would never put him under any sort of stress.”

“Thank you…it’s just that I wanted to speak to you, before you hear things from other people.”

Dominic sat up straighter…what things?

“I know someone told you about the fire, it was arson. Someone pushed a lighted rag through the letterbox. There are some round here said that Matt started it, because he survived. But I’ve said enough.”

He stood and put his hand out again and Dominic shook it firmly.

“Please, don’t worry. I won’t allow trouble in my shop.”

He followed the man out and watched as he ushered Matthew out.

“See, what did I tell you, nice family,”

*****************************

For some reason Matthew didn’t come in the next week, nor the week after that. Dominic knew he shouldn’t be, but he was concerned.

He found out why the following week.

He’d gone to the bank and it had taken longer than he’d expected. He was hurrying to get back for the lunch time rush, and he rounded the corner of the street where his shop was located.

He saw a group of lads and they were surrounding some poor sod.

Whoever it was, was suddenly on the floor, and he would have intervened anyway, but then he saw a shock of black hair….it was Matthew!

“Hey, what the hell are you doing!?” he shouted.

One of the youths spun round and yelled, “Mind your own!”

“Like hell I will!” he yelled back

Several of the youths had broken away, and he could see that Matthew was still on the ground.

“You defending the freak!” one of the youths said, probably the ring leader.

Dominic realised he was outnumbered, but he wasn’t going to back down.

Then another voice shouted.

“I see you Danny Johnson! You wait till I see your dad, he’ll put your backside in a sling!”

She appeared a few moments later, a broom in her hands.

“Bugger off, the lot of you!” she yelled.

She lay into one of them with the broom, and being the cowards they were, they turned tail and ran.

Dominic forgot about them instantly, his focus on Matthew; who was still on the ground. He crouched down next to Matthew and touched his shoulder.

Matthew flinched and tried to move away.

“Matthew, its Dominic from the coffee shop.”

He touched Matthew’s shoulder again, and at least this time he didn’t flinch, and he sat up.

“Come on, you can’t sit on the ground,” Dominic said and stood, extending a hand.

To his surprise Matthew took it and let himself be pulled up.

“Are you hurt?” Dominic asked. But of course, there was no reply to his query.

“Matthew, look at me,” he said gently.

He was expecting the same non-response, but he was surprised when Matthew raised his head, and Dominic found himself looking into eyes the colour of the clearest blue sky….and the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matthew has a horrible secret..............more than one.

Matthew was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. For a few moments his brain stopped working, taken aback by it, then his brain smacked him upside his head and he came to his senses.

Matthew was hurt, his lips was cut and an ugly abrasion was already turning into a messy blackened eye.

“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said and Matthew followed him meekly into the shop, and into the office.

“Sit,” he said when Matthew just stood by the door. 

He took the first aid kit off the wall and then said.

“Let’s have a proper look,” and lifted Matthew’s chin.

He cleaned the cut on his lips and noticed that Matthew didn’t flinch; even though it must have stung. He cleaned the abrasion on his cheek next, holding the uninjured side of his face to keep him still. He noted unconsciously how soft Matthew’s skin felt.

He finished and took his hand away.

“Matthew, did they kick or punch you anywhere else?”

Silence.

“Matthew, I need to know, did they hurt you anywhere else?”

A shake of the head this time, and Dominic felt somewhat relieved. He now had to ring his step brother; something he wasn’t looking forward to.

“Hello, Mr Wolstenholme. This is Dominic Howard…yes, from the coffee shop. No, I’m not calling for that reason. I’m afraid Matthew’s been assaulted. No, we’re at the coffee shop…it’s not serious. He seems fine…okay, I’ll see you soon.”

Once again he found himself entranced by Matthew, taken in by those sharp cheekbones, and the nose that wasn’t quite straight. That bottom lip, if it wasn’t bloodied and swollen by the cut, would have been very biteable.

He stopped himself then…Jesus, Dominic.

A knock at the door saved him from his thoughts, before they become even more inappropriate.

A panicked and angry looking Chris stepped inside.

“Matt…Christ!” he said, when he saw the state of Matt’s face. “Was it that bloody toe rag again?”

Matthew dropped his head but Chris grabbed his jaw and pushed his head back up.

Dominic didn’t like that, but said nothing; the man was obviously stressed and angry.

“Matt, was it him again. Was it Danny?”

It was obvious there was some sort of communication between them as Chris growled.

“I’m going to kick the crap out of that little bastard.”

Dominic was surprised to see Matthew pull away from Chris’s hand and grab his wrist, then shake his head.

“No, not this time Matt,” Chris said.

Matthew shook his head again and Dominic saw a look of panic appear on his face.

“Yes, Matt. He won’t take any notice of the police or the courts.”

Dominic had to say something.

“If you need a witness to the assault.”

Chris looked at him.

“Did you see it all?”

“Some of it. Is this Danny one of those that thinks he set the fire?”

Chris shook his head.

“So, why did they attack him?”

“Because Danny is a homophobic little shit,” Chris said. “Anyway, thanks for helping Matt, I’ll be taking him home now.”

A few days later Dominic opened the shop and found an envelope on the floor. It was addressed to him, but he didn’t recognise the handwriting. But whoever had written it must be creative, it was almost calligraphic.

He opened it….oh.

Mr Howard,

Chris said I should thank you, which I would have anyway. So thank you for helping me last week.

Matthew.

There was a card wrapped in the paper; an invitation.

When one of the girls came in, he showed it to her.

“Wow,” she said. “They don’t give those out for free…well, not often.”

“Explain.”

“The Wolstenholmes, lots of money…old money. They support and run a lot of charities. This is the biggest fund-raiser of the year. People pay thousands for the privilege to attend and then spend more at the auction. A personal invite means they want to meet you.”

“Why would they want to meet me?”

“Because of Matthew. Are you going to go?”

“It’d be rude not to. But what the hell do I wear?”

*************************

Until he was ten, Matthew James Bellamy’s life had been hell. He knew what his uncle was doing was wrong, he’d learnt at school that he shouldn’t be touched like that; not by an adult.

He never told anyone, after all who would believe him?

When the fire had consumed the house, he was happy; he was finally going to get away.

But he survived and the only good thing was his abuser and tormentor had burnt to death, trapped in a bedroom.

The rest of his family didn’t want him, choosing to believe he’d started the fire, and if the rest of his family hadn’t have been in the house, he just might have…anything to rid himself of a devil and find some peace.

He’d spent six months in care, and he hated every minute. The other kids hated him and he hated them back. He hated the people who encouraged him to ‘talk about it’, hated their false smiles. 

So he kept running away and getting into trouble taking out his anger on things and kids his own age, and sometimes older and bigger; he still had the scars from those encounters.

He’d been labelled a ‘problem child’ and he was planning to run and never be found….until they came into his life.

The next ten years had brought some light into his life…but happiness it was something he’d never known….and love. Sure, they loved him, but the only love he’d known had been twisted and perverted.

No…he’d never known love, nor did he think he could ever show love….or love someone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominic discovers something truly wonderful..............

Dominic knew as soon as the taxi pulled up outside the large house, that he was out of his comfort zone. He showed the invite to the doorman and he was shown into a large room that turned out be the library.

It was full of expensive furniture and expensive first addition books; at least they had taste as well as money.

He then noticed the painting; a family portrait. The artist was very good, but his focus was on Matthew. Sure, there was a smile, but he could see the acute sadness in his eyes. He wondered if the artist had seen that and deliberately painted it.

He never heard the door open and he jumped when a voice said.

“You get drawn to it, don’t you?”

Dominic turned his head, and the older man in the painting was standing next to him.

“That sadness, it’s always there. No matter what we do...always the sadness.”

The man stuck out his hand.

“Phillip Wolstenholme. You must be Dominic Howard.”

Dominic shook his hand and noticed his grip was as firm as his son’s.

“It was a brave thing you did. Those boys have a reputation for violence.”

“It’s something anyone would have done,” Dominic replied.

“Unfortunately, round here, that may not always be the case. There are a lot of small minded people in the world. But, this is a party…so, come and meet the rest of the family.”

Mrs Wolstenholme was pleasant and friendly, and even hugged him, making him blush.

He was then immersed in the mass of people inside a large marquee. He managed to find himself a corner and stood watching, wondering   
how the Wolstenholme’s seemed at ease in the midst of it.

He’d seen Chris, who seemed to be involved in an animated conversation with a group of men; he needed a drink and some quiet. 

Finally, he raised the confidence to weave his way through the people and to the bar. He took his glass of red and stepped out of the marquee and into the floodlit garden. He thought he saw a silhouette in the pagoda, and decided he would join them.

As he got closer, he saw that it was Matthew...and was that? He was relieved to see it was an inhaler and not a cigarette.  
Matthew jumped when he stepped inside, looking very much like a startled deer.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone you’re here. You hate these things too?”

There was of course no verbal answer, just a nod of the head. Poor kid, so traumatised by what had happened, that it robbed him of speech.

“Asthma, had that when I was a kid, grew out of it though.”

There was more silence.

“That shiner’s a corker,” he said, gesturing towards Matthew’s cheek.

Dominic wished he would speak; it must be like being in the world, but not part of it. He wondered if anyone had ever asked him why he didn’t speak.

Perhaps someone should.

“It must be hard, everybody talking around you and at you, when you don’t want to talk.”

Matthew’s eyes widened, and did he see a flash of anger.

“Wouldn’t it be better to say something…anything?”

Yes, definitely a flash of anger in those eyes.

“You can talk to me, if you want. I am a trained counsellor.”

Now there was definitely anger in those cerulean eyes, and Dominic had to move out of the way, or Matthew would have pushed him out of the way.

“Way to go, Howard,” he said to himself and headed back to the marquee. He couldn’t see Matthew, and it looked like the auction was about   
to start.

***************************

He was collared by Chris, who sat him at the family table. The auction was lively and Dominic had notice, what was undoubtedly a piano under a white dust sheet.

“Now we come to our final lot and our prize item. A model B Music Room Grand Piano, made and donated by the Steinway family.”

The bidding was brisk and the final bid was astounding…some of these people must be very wealthy. He loved music and could appreciate a wonderfully crafted instrument.

He played piano as a child, but didn’t have the talent or the drive to keep playing beyond his teens.

The bidders had started filtering back into the larger marquee and he found himself the centre of attention. He was highly embarrassed that people thought his actions were brave. But what impressed him was the genuine affection all those people that had talked to him had for Matthew.

It wasn’t fake sentiment; his fake radar was pretty good.

Eventually he managed to extricate himself from the back-slapping.

“Don’t blame you, mate,” Chris said “I don’t get a choice. There’s a smaller private party in a couple of hours, just family and close friends, and you’re invited.”

Dominic nodded and finally made it back into the garden, welcoming the chilled air.

He started walking back to the pagoda when he heard the sound of a piano; he guessed it must be coming from the party.

It stopped, then started again….it was coming from the smaller marquee, where the auction had been held.

He recognised the piece of music, it was Rachmaninoff…Concerto No 1.

He listened as it shifted from “Vivace” into “Andante Cantabile”. But it sounded slightly different, like whoever was playing it was using their own interpretation of it…and it was beautiful.

He walked over to the marquee and as quietly as he could, he pulled the flap of the entrance back, not wanting to disturb the pianist.  
He had to blink when he saw who it was…..it was Matthew.

Dominic watched as his fingers flowed across the keys, as the music shifted into the last movement, “Allegro Scherzando.”

Once again there was twist, a slight change to the melody…pure genius. How could someone so insular play so beautifully?

He didn’t notice the music had stopped, until he heard the scrap of a chair. He blinked again and saw that Matthew had stood up, and was staring at him, with a look on his face of someone who’d been discovered doing something they shouldn’t.

“That was beautiful,” Dominic said.

That seemed to galvanise Matthew, who moved away from the piano. He had to get past Dominic, who wasn’t going to let him.

He grabbed hold of Matthew’s arm, and the next thing he knew he was on the floor, with Matthew standing over him, blue eyes flashing with fury…not anger.

The look clearly said ‘don’t touch me.’

“Matthew…” Dominic started to say, but Matthew turned away and ran out of the marquee.

Dominic got to his feet, still shocked by Matthew’s reaction. That wasn’t the reaction of someone annoyed at being discovered playing…it was something else.

Matthew’s reaction made Dominic even more determined to find out what caused it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More clues to Matthew's past...perhaps.

Dominic hadn’t seen Matthew after the ‘incident’ in the marquee. He’d endured rather than enjoyed the smaller party, and was glad when his taxi arrived.

The working week soon came round, and his days had been busy. He’d faced a barrage of questions from the girls, but the only thing he remembered clearly was Matthew.

That beautiful piece of music…the sadness in those eyes in that painting, and the anger in them.

He settled down after dinner and went on-line. He put in Matthew Bellamy, house fire and the town name. He wasn’t expecting to find anything, but he had.

He read the article with increasing horror…Matthew had been dragged out of the burning house by a fireman, and then had to be carried away when he’d tried to get back in.

The article said there had been a coroner’s inquiry, and arson had been declared as the cause of the fire. It also reported that the inquiry was still open, since the crime had gone unsolved…ten years, no wonder Matthew was damaged.

There was mention that he’d gone into care, but nothing else. Then he noticed another article, dated five years after the fire. Rumours and accusations, and a picture of Matthew coming out of school.

He didn’t want to read any more…there was no way that Matthew was responsible.

****************************

When he’d turned fifteen, Matthew decided it was time he let someone know he was gay. He had a friend…well, he thought he was a friend.

He made the mistake of confiding in him, and the ‘friend’ had turned out to be false.

The isolation he had felt would have been preferable to the stares and the jibes…and the bullying.

It was Danny and his little herd of sheep that were the worse….oh, he never hurt him enough to get himself in trouble, but just enough that Matthew had sore ribs or stomach, until he left school.

He’d settled into a routine, and part of that routine had been going to the coffee shop. The owner had been kind and he felt relaxed there. 

Then it had shut and he found himself in another shop, and back in the cross-hairs of Danny.

But this time Danny had no restrictions and Matthew paid for it.

His step-brother Chris had come home early and caught him trying to wash away a bloody nose, and it had taken him a good hour of silent pleading to stop Chris from finding Danny and beating him into the ground.

He didn’t want any more trouble.

Then the coffee shop had re-opened, under new management. He’d walked past several times, before getting the courage to walk in. He heard familiar voices, and approached the counter, putting his money on the surface.

He sat by the window, listening to the voices of the customers. He heard a new voice, it must be the new owner’s; not that he was interested, but he filed the voice away, and it faded in with the other voices.

Then Chris had come with him one time; he sometimes forgot to pay, and he learnt the owner’s name was Dominic, and after that he seemed to pick Dominic’s voice out from the others.

Then Danny had happened again, and he stopped going; not that anyone knew. He couldn’t tell them, too scared of what Chris and his friends would do.

He managed to avoid Danny for a week, but then he’d caught him, and he seemed to be in a particularly nasty mood.

“Where you think you’re going, freak?” Danny said. “Well…oh yeah, the freak don’t talk.”

The first punch bloodied his lip, the second caught his eye, and the third floored him. Danny was just going in for a vicious kick, when he heard Dominic’s voice.

He was standing up for him…standing up to Danny…why? He knew what would happen next, and it would be another thing he would be blamed for.

But someone else came to Dominic’s aide, and Dominic had spoken to him…not in the patronising tone, but in a concerned and soft tone.

Then he’d allowed Dominic to help him, even when every part of him was telling him to run. 

He didn’t flinch when Dominic touched his face…instinct again telling him what would happen if he did. But Dominic didn’t do what he was fearing….he was kind and only took care of his injuries.

Then Chris had turned up, all anger and concern...please, no more trouble he’d tried to convey when Chris looked into his eyes.

He hated the fuss when he’d gotten home, and he hated the people in the house now.

He slipped away and hid in the pagoda, hoping not to be found, but he had, by Dominic.

He managed to get away and had hidden until the auction had finished.

He slipped into the auction marquee…good; it was empty.

Matthew may not know how to love people…but he loved music. Music didn’t lie to him…music never said it loved him, and then did the opposite of what love should be. Music accepted him for who he was, and didn’t care about his past, or his secrets.

He ran his hands over the piano; it was a beautiful thing. Yes, there was one in the house, and he played it when there was no-one in…but this, this was brand new…untouched…pure.

He sat and placed his fingers on the keys and let the music flow, he closed his eyes and let every note fill his mind and the world he hated slipped away.

Finally he finished and opened his eyes, and became aware that someone was standing at the entrance….it was Dominic.

“That was beautiful,” he’d said.

He panicked…being discovered only meant bad things in his mind…and music was the only good secret he had. He tried to get past Dominic, but Dominic had grabbed his arm.

His panic turned to fear…being grabbed like that only meant one thing…no, not this time, and he lashed out.

He stared down at a shocked Dominic, and slowly his anger turned to fear again. He turned and fled…fled to the only place he knew to be safe.


	5. Chapter 5

When Matthew Bellamy was eleven, he was planning to run away…live on the streets. It couldn’t be any worse that the last eleven years of his life.

But the day before he was planning to run, they came.

He was escorted by the social worker into the ‘family room.’

He sat in the chair furthest away from the three people. He glared at them, and then stared out of the window, as the social worker talked with them.

He didn’t react to someone sitting next to him, and he tried to ignore the person when he spoke.

“Bit like being the prize pooch at a dog show, isn’t it?”

That sentence got his attention, but he wasn’t going to acknowledge it.

“Tough crowd,” the voice said. “I get it kid. Why the hell should anybody want you...the crazy kid?”

It was the honesty that got him, and from that moment he wasn’t going to run…well, not tomorrow.

When he was twelve, he got into a fight, not his first, but the boy had been much bigger than him, and he had friends. They chased him, but he’d always been a fast runner, despite his asthma.

He barrelled through the small gate of the house, and he heard it click shut, trapping his pursuers outside. But he kept running, until he got to his safe place.

He was sitting in it now, anger and fear using his body as a battleground….trying not to breathe heavily, not wanting the owner of the footsteps below to hear him.

The footsteps stopped and he held his breath. He felt his chest start to tighten…no, not now.

Whoever was below wasn’t going away…..please…please go away…it’s getting hard to breathe. He heard footsteps again, but still they didn’t fade, and now he was feeling faint.

Panic took over and he fumbled for his inhaler, but in his haste he dropped it, and it skittered away and out of his place of safety.

He took a panicky breath, but when he did, his chest felt like a vice and he only took in a wheezy shallow breath. His vision started to blur   
and fade…he was going to die; let it come.

Then he heard voices...one was Chris and he sounded panicked…don’t be, it will be over soon.

Then there was another, not panicked, but commanding.

“Matthew, you need to try and relax and take deep breathes,”…like he wasn’t trying.

But his lungs now felt like they were being crushed…definitely dying….but when he looked at Dominic and into his eyes, he found he didn’t   
want to…help me.

He felt more than knew he was being lifted, then it went completely black.

*************************

Dominic wasn’t going to let Matthew disappear. There was something more than the trauma of losing his family haunting this young man. 

After a few stunned moments, he hurried out of the marquee, but there was no sign of Matthew.

The garden wasn’t big, and he doubted he would go towards the party. So he started searching the garden. He paused by a large tree and noticed the wooden steps.

He looked up…nice tree-house.

He started walking away, when he saw Chris approaching.

“Have you seen Matt?”

“Actually, I was looking for him myself.”

When he saw Chris’s puzzled frown, he knew he had to speak truthfully.

“We had an altercation…..”

He was interrupted by the clatter of something hitting wood.

They both looked around until Chris stopped and picked up a piece of broken plastic.

“This looks like Matt’s inhaler.”

Then they heard laboured breathing and looked up….the tree-house.

Chris was up first, Dominic only just behind.

“Oh shit…Matt!” Chris cried.

Dominic went into first-aider mode.

“Chris, call an ambulance.”

He could see that Matt was beyond the help of an inhaler; even if it wasn’t broken. In a voice that he hoped didn’t sound panicked, he said.

“Matthew, you need to try and relax and take deep breaths.”

Matthew looked at him with panicked filled eyes.

“I know…Chris, you do this .He needs someone he knows.”

He took the phone from Chris.

“No, his inhaler is broken…I’m afraid so…okay, thank you…yes, I will. Chris, we have to get him down, the ambulance is only minutes away.”

Chris scooped Matt up and moved, Dominic behind him Mr Wolstenholme was walking up.

“Dad, get the gates open!”

The sound of a siren could be heard as Chris and Dominic pushed through the party-goers and out onto the front drive.

"Dominic, he’s not breathing…Christ, his lips are blue!” 

Dominic could do nothing…not while Matthew’s airways were so constricted.

The sight of the ambulance speeding up the drive did nothing to relieve the sense of dread. He could hear Mrs Wolstenholme crying…..then he found himself in the ambulance with Chris, watching as the paramedics fought to get Matthew breathing.

Dominic ended up sitting in A&E, too worried to relax. Had he caused Matthew’s asthma attack?

It seemed like forever before he saw Chris, who sat down heavily next to him.

“Is he okay?”

Chris let out a long breath, “They got him breathing again, but he hasn’t come round yet. Something about his oxygen levels…not sure. 

They’re taking him to the AAU ward for observation.”

Dominic felt somewhat relieved…if he’d caused Matthew to die, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

“It’s the best place,” he said.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, then Chris said.

“You said you had an altercation with Matt. I’m not going to get angry, Matt can make a saint swear sometimes. What happened?”

Dominic wasn’t sure how or what to say, so he asked a direct question.

“Did you know Matt plays the piano?”

Chris looked at him and smiled, “Yeah, we all do…but he doesn’t know that we do. We don’t want him to stop, is that what it was about?”

“I think I startled him…he tried to leave, but he got really angry and pushed me to the floor when I tried to stop him.”

Chris frowned, “He hasn’t done that since he was a kid….but with him you never know. He was screwed up way before you met him.”

“Yeah, about that. Has he ever had counselling?”

“We tried, but since he won’t talk we gave up. Waste of money, dad said. But he seems happy enough…well for him.”

“Chris…I know this isn’t the place or time…but perhaps you should try again, the counselling.”

Chris looked at him, “You said you were a counsellor…would you do it?”

Dominic wasn’t expecting that request, and he wasn’t sure.

“I don’t know….”

“Dominic, if he’s going back to being violent, then perhaps we should. I’ll talk to mum and dad. I’ll have to tell them he lashed out, but I won’t tell them it was you. Anyway, you should go home, I’ll call you later.”

Dominic nodded; there wasn’t much he could do, and he wasn’t family. As he sat in the taxi, the only thing he could see was the panic in Matthew’s eyes as he tried to draw breath…..no, not just panic.

He’d seen something else….a silent plea….help me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to get complicated............

Dominic looked out of his kitchen window, the rain wasn’t easing off, and so he went back to what he was doing.

As he sat working, his thoughts wandered back to Matthew…again. It had been a month since the auction and what could have been a fatal asthma attack. He’d heard nothing, nor seen Matthew, but then why should he?

He wasn’t family, but he was worried about Matthew. Yes, he’d seen and felt the flash of anger, but he hadn’t sensed that Matthew was violent in nature. Matthew’s response seemed instinctive….fear perhaps.

Fear of what?

He was becoming more and more certain, that there was something other than the loss of his family troubling him. That thought made him go cold; what could be worse than losing your family?

He looked out the window again, the rain had stopped…time for his run.

He pulled on a sweat top, as it was cold outside. He opened the door and stopped in shock.

Huddled on his doorstep, soaked and shivering was Matthew.

************************

Matthew hated being stuck inside the house. For health reasons, they’d said. He’d been out of hospital for a fortnight, and he wanted to go outside. But every attempt to get out had been thwarted.

He felt like he was trapped and he showed his displeasure in destructive behaviour.

His ‘family’ had tried to be patient, but when he’d taken his anger out on the contents of the library, their patience ran out.

They hated doing it but they resorted to a method they had been told to use if he did exactly what he’d just done. Chris had man-handled him into his bedroom and locked the door, then called their doctor to sedate him.

Once locked in his room, his anger had turned to fear, and the full blown panic. The last time he’d been locked in a room, it had meant only one thing.

He had to get out…but where would he go. He pushed his panic down and retrieved his address book, but most of the names were family friends; he couldn’t go to them.

Then his eye alighted on a piece of paper…yes, he could go there.

He opened his window and climbed out, avoiding the CCTV and the darkness hiding him from anyone in the house.

He didn’t have a coat, only his inhaler and phone; he didn’t care that it was cold and wet….he just wanted away.

When he arrived at the place he wanted to be, his courage left him; he couldn’t knock on the door, and he couldn’t go back. So he sat on the doorstep, getting wetter and colder.

***********************

Dominic couldn’t move, the shock rooting him to the spot. Then Matthew gave a wheezy cough and it spurred him into action.

“Matthew, inside,” he ordered, not bothering with being subtle.

When Matthew didn’t respond, he dragged him up and into the house. He searched his clothes and found his inhaler.

He pressed into Matthew’s hand and said, “Use it.”

Matthew looked at him and Dominic saw not defiance, bit resigned compliance.

After he’d used his inhaler, Dominic dragged him into the warmth of the kitchen and into the utility room. He picked out some clean clothes from the laundry basket and put them on the tumble dryer.

“Put these on,” he said and turned away. He could hear wet clothes hitting the floor, and the rustle of dry clothes going on. He waited for what he thought was long enough and turned round.

Matthew stood in the same spot, still shivering, inky black hair plastered against porcelain skin, framing those eyes……………..

He scalded himself…come on Dominic, keep it real.

“I’ll call your brother,” he said and took out his mobile.

He wasn’t expecting Matthew’s reaction. He actually reached out and put his hand on his arm; his eyes saying ‘no.’

Had something happened at home?

He wished Matthew would speak, it would be so much easier. If Matthew wasn’t going to speak, he would have to be inventive….of course.

He pushed Matthew into the kitchen.

“Sit,” he said and turned to one of the kitchen drawers. He took out a pad and a pen and put it in front of Matthew and sat down.

“Why don’t you want me to call?”

Matthew scribbled something and pushed the pad over.

Dominic frowned when he read it.

“Why did you do that?”

Another scribbled sentence…oh, right.

“I’m sure they were doing what they thought was best.”

Matthew’s expression hardened, and the next words seemed to be written in anger.

Dominic read it. It was only five words, but they carried so much emotion.

“No-one cares what I think.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matthew's past starts to be revealed.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hints of historic abuse...............

Dominic had to be very careful about how he said the next words.

“How can they, if you never tell them? People aren’t telepathic.”

He watched Matthew’s face…..not good. Those sea blue eyes suddenly became iceberg blue, before they were narrowed. Matthew wrote something, it was only three words.

The pad was shoved at him and those ice-chip orbs gave it conviction.

“Well, that’s just rude, and anatomically impossible,” Dominic said.

A raised eyebrow was the only response to his reply.

“Okay, I understand why don’t want to go home for now. But they have to know that you’re safe.”

Matthew reached out for the pad and wrote.

“Text.”

Dominic sighed, “Okay, but just till tomorrow. Then we will have to talk about this…well, I’ll talk.”

Matthew seemed to be thinking about it, then nodded. He took out his phone and showed Dominic the text before he sent it. Dominic wasn’t happy, but he had the feeling Matthew might just run if he hadn’t agreed.

He saw Mathew shiver; he must still be cold.

“Since you’re staying, how about you take a shower and warm up. I’ll make some...well brunch I suppose. The bathroom’s the third door on the left from the top of the stairs.”

Matthew actually smiled and it lit up his face….dear lord, he thought, he should smile more.

He busied himself preparing some food, but he found his mind wandering, as a mental image…. He stopped himself again; he felt like some kind of cradle snatcher. But dammit, Matthew was beautiful, damaged but still beautiful. Someone that beautiful shouldn’t be damaged.

He was laying the table when Matthew reappeared. He looked warmer and his hair was fluffy from being towel-dried. It made him eve more….stop it.

“I hope you like pasta?” he said, putting down a plate.

Matthew didn’t move from the door, almost like he was waiting for permission to sit.

“Sit,” Dominic said.

Matthew duly sat and took a tentative forkful of the pasta, and then attacked it; the same happened with the dessert.

The day seemed to pass quickly and Dominic had hoped Matthew would communicate some more, but he seemed content to sit and watch whatever as on the television. He still wasn’t happy that he couldn’t call the Wolstenholmes’; text or no text, but he wouldn’t break the trust that Matthew had put in him.

His resolve was tested when his mobile rang; it was Chris.

“No, he isn’t here and how would he know my home address…oh right…yes, I’ll call you if he does. He texted you…well at least you know he’s somewhere safe. I will…goodbye.”

He turned back to Matthew, who was looking at him, a nervous look on his face.

“Don’t worry, but we will talk about this, they’re worried about you.”

Evening came round and Dominic went upstairs to make up the bed in the larger of the spare rooms. He came down and found Matthew had one of his vintage vinyl records in his hands.

“Jimmy Hendrix, you like his music?”

Matthew jumped like a scalded cat, dropping the vinyl, and again there was that look of apprehension on his face.

“It’s okay, they’re not just for show,” he said and picked up the record and placed it on the record deck, and the strains of “All Along the   
Watchtower” filled the room.

But Matthew still looked like he’d done something wrong.

“Really, it’s okay. What else is there you like. Go on, you can touch.”

There was that smile again, had he just found something he could use as a connection with his silent house guest.

He had to admit, the kid had great taste and seemed to have a liking for rock music.

“You can have those, if you like,” he said.

Matthew looked up from the CD he was reading, and Dominic wasn’t sure what to make of the look on his face.

“Well, it’s late and tomorrow we have to sort this out. I’ve made a bed up for you.”

********************

When Matthew was ten, he began to realise that when he was given a present, it meant he had to thank the person in the way that he had been taught.

He’d thought that after the fire he’d get away from them, but they found him when he was fourteen, when he was walking home from school…and it hadn’t stopped and they told him he wouldn’t get away again...he would always belong to them.

But he had, when they were caught trying to steal away someone younger, and he thought he would finally escape from them. He even though he’d found someone he could confide in…..Dominic.

Then he’d said he could have the CD’s and he’d made up a bed for him. He knew then that he hadn’t……was he the person they said he was going to be ‘given’ to when he became too old for their tastes?

He had to fight his panic and keep control, if he wanted to get away…and run… no… not run, because they could always find him.

No, he would have to do something else…so they could never hurt him again…and he knew what he would do.

He waited until he was sure he was in his bedroom, he should do it now, before he came to him and expected him to show his thanks.

He crept down the stairs and into the kitchen…yes, he knew he’d seen them….prescription sedatives; ready for him if he protested no doubt. 

Well screw him, he wouldn’t get what he wanted, and he highly doubted he was into……no, don’t think about that, think about what you supposed to be doing.

He moved into the living room and found what he wanted. He took a handful of the pills and went to swallow them with the whiskey he’d found.

“What the hell are you doing!?” Dominic’s voice roared and the bottle and the tablets were knocked from his hands.

Strong hands grabbed hold of his shoulders and shook him and something inside him snapped and for the first time in all the years that he’d been made to thank others without struggling, he finally fought back.

He went for the nearest part of Dominic he could reach, and scratched a bloody welt down Dominic’s cheek.

That made him hiss and then swear, but it didn’t make him let go and Matthew found himself on the floor in what he recognised as a restraining hold…but he kept on fighting, but Dominic was older, stronger and heavier than him.

“Stop it,” Dominic said in his ear. “Stop fighting me…please.”

So he did, resigning himself to his fate…he would ‘belong’ to someone until he became too old and ended up like all the others he knew had come before him…dead.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets are starting to be revealed..........

Dominic had just settled, he’d heard Matthew moving about and he hoped he would settle down soon.

He still couldn’t fathom that look on Matthew’s face after he’d said he could have the CD. He was too tired to think on it; tomorrow was going to be bad enough. He was half asleep when he heard someone going down the stairs...the kid.

He was in two minds as to whether he should go and see what he was doing. He knew he couldn’t get out; he had the keys. He tried to go back to sleep, but something wouldn’t let him, so he went downstairs.

For a second he was frozen by what he saw…then anger overrode any shock; what the hell?

“What the hell are you doing!?” he roared and was across the room in a couple of strides, knocking the bottle of pills from Matthew’s hand.

Did the kid have any in his mouth?

He grabbed Matthew’s free hand, intending to grab his face with his other hand; but the kid scratched his face. He hissed at the pain, but didn’t let go. He used his strength and size to get Matthew in a restraining hold.

“Don’t fight me,” he said. “Please.”

Still Matthew struggled, but then suddenly he stopped, almost like he’d just surrendered. Now he had to be even more forceful.

“Spit them out!”

No response.

“Matthew, spit them put, or do I have to get them out.”

He heard more than saw Matthew spit them out, but he still didn’t let Matthew go.

“Why?” he asked, even though he knew he wouldn’t get an answer.

He was startled when Matthew started trembling, and then something that should have been a miracle happened, but it turned out to be something that was certainly not miraculous.

In a voice that sounded terrified and desperate Matthew spoke for the first time in ten years…and the words horrified Dominic.

“Please don’t hurt me.” 

He was so shocked he let go of Matthew and reeled back, and Matthew crawled away until he reached a corner.

Dominic couldn’t breathe, let alone stand; he just sat on the floor. He took a huge breath, as he tried to process what had just happened. 

Those words were awful, and they spoke of only one thing; somewhere in Matthew’s past, there had been some kind of abuse.

He had to get over his shock and deal with the damaged person now cowering on his living room floor.

“Matthew, I’m not going to hurt you,” the words tasting like poison.

He finally stood and took a step forward, but stopped when Matthew tried to get further into the corner. But he had to persist; this had been his chosen field in counselling. He took another step, but stopped when Matthew spoke again.

“I’ll be good….please…I’ll be good.”

Dominic took a breath before speaking again.

“Matthew, why would you think I would hurt you?”

He wasn’t sure he was going to get a response, but he did.

“Because I didn’t thank you.”

“For what?”

“You gave me a CD.”

Yes, as a present.”

“Then I h-have to thank y-you.”

He was about to say that he didn’t need to, when it hit him like a tank. No…oh no. Bile rose and burnt his throat…it was beyond sick; he couldn’t even think the words.

How was he going to deal with this?

“You don’t have to do that.”

He swallowed down the nausea, only for it to rise again when Matthew said.

“They say I have to….they say I have to thank you.”

Matthew kept repeating the words like a sick mantra. He wanted to grab hold of him and wrap him in his arms, but he knew he couldn’t.

“You don’t have to do as they say, not here. Do you think I’m one of them?”

A nod made bile rise again; he really wanted to throw up, and once again he swallowed it down.

“Well I’m not… I would never…..I could never…Jesus, you poor kid.”

He felt his stomach heave…no, stay in control. Matthew’s next word cut right through him.

“Liar.”

Of course, why would he believe him? How could he prove he wasn’t? He thought for a few seconds….yes.

“Matthew, I’m going to call Chris, you know he’s not one of them. Is that okay?”

Matthew actually looked at him, and even though there was disbelief in his eyes, he said.

“Okay.”

Dominic dialled Chris’s number and put it on speaker; he needed Matthew to trust his words.

“Hello,” came Chris’s sleepy voice.

“Chris, this Dominic Howard. I’m sorry to disturb you, but it’s about Matthew…he’s here.”

“What…?”

“Can you come over?”

“Okay, let me wake mum and dad.”

“No…just you, please.”

“What’s going on, Dominic?”

“Just come over…there’s something you need to know.”

“Alright.”

Dominic could hear the suspicions in his voice…this wasn’t going to be easy.

He looked at Matthew, who still clung to the corner like it was a life belt.

“See, Chris is coming. I’m not one of them.”

There was silence after that and Dominic sat on the floor opposite Matthew, who was no longer looking at him, but he looked absolutely miserable.

A knock at the door sounded loud…Chris.

Dominic went to the door, not really wanting to leave Matthew.

********************

Please…please let me die, he’d said to himself as he’d placed the bottle against his lips. But he never got to know if it would have been any better being dead, as Dominic stopped him.

He’d struggled but couldn’t get away, so he’d resigned himself to whatever his fate was. But he didn’t want any more pain...so for the first time since the fire he spoke…and he begged Dominic not to hurt him.

Now he was in the corner, wishing that the wall would close around him as Dominic let his step-brother in. At least Dominic had been true to his word; not that it meant he trusted him. 

He could never let his guard down completely; he’d done that before and had suffered for it.

He couldn’t hear the words but he could hear the muffled sounds of the conversation in the next room. At first all he could hear was what sounded like Dominic’s voice…calm and steady.

Then he heard what could only be Chris and he sounded upset and angry. Was he angry with him? He wouldn’t blame if he was…now he knew what a disgusting thing he was.

A door opened and he heard someone come in.

“Matt…oh Matt.”

The next thing he felt strong arms around…Chris.

“Why didn’t you ever tell anyone… tell me. Is that why you never spoke? ”

The hug was tightened and he didn’t fight it. He drew in a shaky breath and whispered.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Chris said, not relenting in his hold.

He didn’t reply…he didn’t have any more words.

Chris finally let go and he could see Dominic behind, watching from the doorway. Perhaps he could trust him after all...trust him with all of his secrets.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now dark secrets are being revealed............

Dominic and Chris sat at the dining table, both stunned by what had happened. Matthew had thankfully been so exhausted that he didn’t resist when Chris guided him to the sofa, and he’d fallen asleep.

“I can’t believe it,” Chris said, looking over at him. “You really think he was……you know?”

Dominic sighed, “It would be nice to think he wasn’t. But when I was a counsellor, I saw enough victims to know the signs…the behaviour.”

“Jesus, why didn’t they tell us when we fostered him.”

“They may not have known. It’s usually done in secret….with only the victim and the abuser knowing.”

“But who would…Christ, I can’t even think it.”

They looked over when Matthew let out a whimper; it seemed even his dreams were haunted.

“I have to tell mum and dad, they have to know. The police have to know, whoever did this still might be out there.”

Dominic said nothing, not wanting to make it worse by telling him that most abuse was perpetrated by someone the victim knew. But he did say.

“Yes, call your parents, but not the police, not yet. We have to be led by Matthew, he needs to be the one to tell us who and when. Plus he needs professional help.”

“Can’t you help him? I don’t think he’ll talk to another shrink, and what if they decide to tell the police, he’ll get dragged off somewhere for   
his own safety. That would do god knows what to him.”

Dominic shook his head, “I don’t think he’ll trust me.”

“I know, but you calling me means you can be trusted. Let me call my parents.”

Chris got up and went into the kitchen to make a call that Dominic was sure he didn’t want to make.

He sat in silence, watching Matthew sleep; had he just stirred up a hornet’s nest? He’d seen what things like this could do….to people….to   
communities, and he wanted to spare Matthew and the Wolstenholme’s the nightmare he knew it would become. 

He could imagine the headlines…..boy who survived family tragedy in abuse scandal and all the accusations, truths…. half-truths and lies that would follow. And what would happen to the kid, his life would change and not necessarily for the better; salvation could also lead to damnation.

Matthew let out another whimper and he began to fidget. He could hear Chris in the kitchen, no doubt his parents would be here soon.

He jumped when Matthew let out a cry, and he reacted instinctively and went to the sofa. He put a hand on Matthew’s shoulder and said.

“Sssh now.”

Matthew let out another cry and this time his eyes opened, and they were full of panic.

Dominic expected him to flinch away, but he found himself holding Matthew, trying not to be startled by the level of trust it engendered.

“Hey now, it’s okay,” he said and felt damp on his t-shirt….Matthew was crying, and he let him.

He looked up when Chris came back into the living room, and he gestured for Chris to take over. Matthew let out a small noise, seeming to miss the contact, as he moved away.

“Mum and Dad are coming,” he said as he sat next to Matthew and wrapped an arm round him.

“I-I’m sorry…” Matthew said in a quiet voice.

Chris smiled and said, “What for? I finally get to hear your voice….ten years of silence, kid.”

“Y-you m-must h-hate m-me.”

Chris looked at Dominic, a puzzled look on his face.

“Why would I hate you?”

“Because I-I’m d-d-disgusting.”

Chris looked at Dominic, he looked lost for something to say, so Dominic moved back and crouched down in front of Matthew.

“Matthew, why do you think that?”

“I let them….let them…” 

He broke off, tears once again falling.

Dominic put a hand on Matthew’s knee and Chris squeezed his shoulder….another shock; there had been more than one abuser.

“Matthew…you’ve done nothing wrong. What they did was wrong, so very wrong.”

“Yeah,” Chris said. “But not you Matt…never.”

Matthew looked at Chris then at Dominic.

“But I-I did s-something….”

He was interrupted by the doorbell….the Wolstenholme’s.

*************************

When he was nine years and eleven month Matthew began to realise that his life wasn’t like the other boys at school. 

They seemed happy and ran about, chasing each other and discussing what they were going to get for their birthdays. His birthday was on Saturday and he knew what that meant….not bikes and computer games and play stations; it meant….other things.

Saturday came and yes, he’d gotten presents from his mother and father; happy in their ignorance of what birthday’s meant to him.

He smiled and said thank you and went to his room, wanting to hide from him, the one who looked at him with different eyes.

He buried himself under his duvet, knowing that he would soon be here. He tried to muffle a frightened whimper when the door opened. He tried not to shake when a voice said…his voice.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten… little Matty.”

He lay awake, too terrified to sleep, knowing he would be back. He heard what sounded like the letterbox. Postmen didn’t work at this time of night.

He paid no heed to it and resumed his terrified vigil.

Then he heard shouting…his mother’s voice, high-pitched and terrified; his father’s voice, shouting for his brother and himself. Then the smell of smoke drifted to his nose…what was going on.

Then his voice came...then a muffled curse.

He looked out from under his duvet…there he was, on the floor, holding his leg and he was in pain. But Matthew was looking beyond him…looking at the smoke, black and choking…hearing the screams of his family…his mother…his father…his brother.

Fire…he been told what to do in a fire….get out….get out.

He clambered out of his bed…..for the first time more terrified of something else….more terrified of the fire, than him.

Even in this moment of panic….a thought came into his young mind…. a wicked thought, some might say; he could be free of him…them.

He only looked once at him as he lay on the floor, one of his legs twisted at a funny angle. Then he dragged his study chair out of the bedroom, closing the door and pushing it under the handle.

He could hear him yelling, then screaming, but it was soon lost as he blindly made his way down the stairs, knowing that the flames that were hungrily licking at the walls would soon consume him and his tormentor.

Then he spoke the last words he would say for so long.

“I’m sorry mummy, daddy, Jamie.”

Then the black smoke took him and he waited for death.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies...but this is going to get dark before it gets better...Dominic makes an awful discovery and Matthew is going to be in a very bad place...sorry.

The Wolstenholme’s reacted exactly as Dominic hoped they would. They were shocked, then appalled…then angry.

He was sitting with Matthew whilst Chris explained. Matthew had gone quiet when they’d arrived, and when voices had been raised, he began to tremble.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, hoping to stop the trembling, but it only increased. Was Matthew so terrified of being shunned for something he wasn’t responsible for?

“Matthew, you don’t have to be afraid. None of this is your fault. They’re not going to reject you.”

In a voice that was no more than a whisper, Matthew said, “H-how do y-you know t-that?”

“Matthew,” he started to say, then stopped. He couldn’t talk to the top of Matthew’s head.

“Matthew, look at me,” he said in the same firm tone he’d used back at the shop. He was pleased to see that it worked again, as those delicate features looked up at him. He took in a breath as there was sea of emotions in those eyes.

“Matthew, did Chris reject you?”

A shake of the head.

“Then why would they reject you?”

“Cause’ I’m not family.”

Jesus…the kid didn’t recognise love when he was clearly surrounded by it.

“Matthew, you are family, I can see it.”

Matthew’s head dropped again; it was obvious he didn’t believe it.

Any further attempts at communication had to stop as the Wolstenholme’s entered the living room.

“Matthew…oh Matthew,” Mrs Wolstenholme said and took Dominic’s place, wrapping her arms around Matthew. “My poor little Matthew. Is that why you never spoke, too afraid of what we would think?”

Mister Wolstenholme put a hand on Matthew’s shoulder, “We love you Matthew, you’re our son.”

Mister Wolstenholme turned away and spoke to Dominic, “May I have a word, in the kitchen?”

**************

“Dominic, you said you were a practicing counsellor? You were also a therapist?”

Dominic nodded.

“In your professional opinion, do you believe that Matthew was the victim of and good god, I don’t even want to think it, let alone voice it, abuse and not physical abuse? Dear Lord.”

“I know it’s not easy to hear, but I believe he may have at some time in his past been abused. But only Matthew can tell you that. He needs professional help.”

Mister Wolstenholme let out a breath, “Of course…would you be prepared to take this on?”

Dominic shook his head, “Mister Wolstenholme, I haven’t been a practicing therapist for over five years. I can, however recommend some   
excellent professionals.”

“I can’t persuade you?”

“Sorry...but no.”

“No need to apologise. Well, we’ll be taking Matthew home, here’s my personal e-mail address and you can send me your recommendations. Thank you for your help.”

“You will let me know how Matthew is doing?”

“Of course, and thank you again,” Mister Wolstenholme said at the door.

Then they were gone and Dominic doubted he would see them again.

**********************

Six weeks went by and Dominic had been kept busy. Christmas came and went, and the dark days of January closed in. On one particularly cold and wet evening he was just shutting up the shop when a familiar voice said.

“Dominic?"

He turned and there was Chris; he was wet through and looked miserable.

He unlocked the door again and said, “Come inside.”

“It’s okay, I won’t stop. I just want to ask you something. Has Matthew been here?”

Dominic frowned, “No, you know he hasn’t, why? Please come inside…let me get you a warm drink.”

He placed a mug of coffee in front of Chris and said, “Why did you ask if Matthew had been here?”

Chris let out a long sigh, “Its Matthew, he’s been missing for a week.”

Dominic felt his stomach drop….missing…..what?

“How, what happened?” he managed to say.

“We sent him to one of those therapists you recommended and we thought he was doing okay. Then out of the blue he attacked the therapist…and he was sectioned. We couldn’t do anything about it. We had to go to court just to see him. It was horrible, he’d lost weight and had stopped talking. We had to fight to get him transferred to a private hospital, and he was only a day away from being transferred when he went missing. They don’t know how he escaped, but Matthew is good at escaping when he wants to. That was a week ago, and there hasn’t been a sign of him since.”

Dominic didn’t know what to say; the thought that Matthew was somewhere out there, in the vulnerable state that he was probably in made his insides churn.

“And you thought he might come here?”

“Yes, or to your house. He’d made a connection with you, I thought he might come to you, for help…you know,” Chris said, not looking any happier.

“I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen him.”

Chris stood up, “I’ll be going…if he does….”

“Chris, I’ll be straight on the phone. I hope he turns up or you find him.”

He watched Chris walk out, his shoulders hunched…this was turning into more of tragedy than it already was. 

*******************

January soon turned in February…then it became March and somehow Dominic had been cajoled and nagged into celebrating his birthday, and the girls had arranged for a two night break in Manchester, including entrance and spending money to the hottest night-club.

“Really girls, this is not my thing,” he insisted as the girls pushed him towards the front of the queue and waved the tickets at the door-man.

“Maybe not, but you are going to have a good time,” one of the girls said.

Two hours later he had to admit, he was having a good time. The music was good; it was an Eighties night and the place was heaving. He made his way from the bar back to the booth they had occupied. He wanted to relax a little, plus he’d seen several men eyeing him, and he wasn’t really in the mood to be chatted-up. He sat watching the crowd, when whoever was sitting in the next booth starting talking louder to be heard over the music.

“Not much action tonight is there?”

“Nah, there’s was a blond guy, but he was with a bunch of girls and didn’t seem that interested when I looked over. Still, there’s always that skinny kid…you know, the one with all that black hair.” 

“You don’t want to go there, he’s almost jail-bait...plus he’s Donnie’s.”

“Still, I wouldn’t mind a crack at him, he’s tasty…bet he’s a screamer…what was his name? If you pay Donnie enough, he'll let you have him for a night.”

Dominic froze and he almost choked on his drink when the other voice said.

“Not sure….hang on...yeah, Matthew, that’s it…Matthew.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rescue plan is put into action...but Matthew is so very, very lost.

Dominic didn’t know whether to be sick or angry; but all he did was remain frozen, as the conversation continued.

“Donnie will just laugh at you, that kid’s not one of his normal rent-boys. The only time he lets that kid out of his bed is when some rich punter flashes his platinum card. But you can ask, there he is, with that kid in tow.”

Dominic blinked…Mathew was here. He let out a breath and moved to the other side of the booth, so he could see.

At first he didn’t spot him…then he saw him; that shock of black hair unmistakable. He was almost sick again.

Sure, he was dressed in very expensive clothes that only accentuated his lithe frame, and his hair was artfully styled, but he didn’t carry himself with the confidence that such clothes and styling should give the wearer.

His eyes flicked from Matthew to the person that he was standing next to…and Dominic took and instant dislike to the man. He was three times the size of Matthew, and unlike Matthew looked round the club with an air of ‘I own this place’.

The man stepped down onto the dance floor and Matthew followed. They disappeared from sight for a few minutes, then Dominic saw them at one of the larger booths, and they’d been joined by another man, who was also well-dressed and what he could only describe as walking walls; Donnie was that sought of a person and only one word came to his mind….pimp.

The music changed and a dance remix of ‘Tainted Love’ began and the well-dressed man got up and to Dominic’s disgust he held out a hand to Matthew.

His heart leapt a little bit when Matthew didn’t move, but then it sank when the one called Donnie suddenly grabbed Matthew by the hair and said something. The man held his hand out again and this time Matthew took it and he was led out onto the dance floor.

Dominic watched with growing horror as the Matthew began to dance with the man and didn’t seem to object when then man’s hand wandered to his backside and pulled him closer and kissed him.

Dominic couldn’t look anymore; his stomach was turning and it was then that the girls returned to the table and his view was blocked. By the time they’d returned to the dance floor, there was no sign of Matthew or the man…or the one called Donnie.

Now he really wanted to be sick….he knew what must be happening.

Then the conversation began again between the two people in the next booth.

“Told you…only rich punters get the best ones. He must be a really special punter…lucky one to get his hands on that. Oh well, I’m off, you got Donnie’s number? I know I can’t get that kid but…..”

“Sure,” the other man said and rattled off a number, and Dominic blessed the fact that he could remember any number after only hearing it once. His mind was reeling…he had to save Matthew, and god forgive him, there was only one way to do it.

********************************

Matthew let himself into the penthouse that belonged to Donnie. He’d only been given a key because Donnie knew he wouldn’t run…not anymore.

He’d run from the hospital…run from the Wolstenholmes….run from the rejection he feared…run from London.

He’d ended up in Manchester, living on the streets, surviving the best he could. Then he’d strayed into Donnie’s radar.

Donnie was a violent man and Matthew had learnt his place after the third beating. Soon after that Donnie realised that Matthew was ‘special’, which to Donnie meant ‘exclusive and expensive’ and he stopped being one of his ‘street boys’ and the beatings stopped; not because Donnie cared about Matthew.

It also meant that he never left Donnie’s sight, unless he was being ‘hired’ out to one of Donnie’s wealthy clients. It also meant he shared Donnie’s bed, and he never disobeyed or fought him when he was ‘in the mood.’

Not like the client last night; he’d hurt him, when he refused to do something he really didn’t want to do.

“I told him, no rough play, not with you,” Donnie said as he non-to-gently cleaned his split lip.

Matthew winced when Donnie grabbed his jaw and looked at the bruise that was forming on his cheek.

“He’s bloody marked you, that’ll cost him.”

Donnie went to the freezer and took out a bag of ice and threw it at him.

“Keep that on it, can’t have people asking questions.”

After that Donnie ignored him, as the day’s ‘business’ took over. Then he was left alone when Donnie went out, locking the door behind him.

Matthew let out a sigh and went back to staring out of the window, looking out at the city he would never be allowed to wander through.

Donnie didn’t return until the evening and he had blood on his clothes and his knuckles; he knew that the client from last night had paid for hurting him.

When Donnie barked at him to “get his arse into the bedroom’ he knew better than to hesitate.

Donnie was in the middle of a painful and bruising kiss when his mobile rang, and his phone only rang at this time when it was business. 

With a growl of annoyance he got up and said to Matthew, “Stay,” and walked out of the bedroom.

Sometime later he walked back in and said.

“We are going to London…someone really wants you, but first, come here.”

****************

It had taken Dominic all of the next day to gather his courage to walk into Phillip Wolstenholme’s office, and courage he didn’t think he had to tell Phillip and Christopher Wolstenholme what he’d seen and heard.

Mister Wolstenholme wanted to go to the police, but he said that someone like this Donnie would know they were coming, and Matthew would more than likely just ‘disappear.’

So they had devised a plan, one that neither of them like. Dominic was surprised, if not shocked when Phillip Wolstenholme said he knew people who could help, and he met what Mister Wolstenholme called his heads of security, Thomas Kirk and Dominic Anderson.

But he had to do the most difficult part; he was going to be the client.

With shaking fingers he dialled that number.

“Good afternoon, Donatello’s Escorts, how may I help you?”

“Hello…I’d like to hire one of your…well, your male escorts.”

“Sir, there’s no need to be nervous. I’ll go through a list of what you require and take your card details. First can I can take your card details, just to confirm that you can afford our services.”

“It’s a business card, is that okay?”

“Of course sir.” 

He gave the name and number of one of the Wolstenholme’s business cards.

“Thank you sir, and your name is?”

“I’d rather not give my name. If that’s okay?”

“Of course sir, discretion is part of our business. Now sir, what are your preferences as to age?”

“I like twenty year-olds.”

“That’s fine, and hair colour?”

“I like black.”

“Eye colour?”

“Blue, but not just any blue. It has to be a special blue.”

“And body type and height?”

“I like skinny, not tall, delicate features…not tanned.”

“That’s quite specific sir. Can I transfer you to our manager?”

“Sure.”

There was a few moment silence and then a man’s voice…him.

“Good evening sir, Donnie James. My receptionist tells me you are after something very specific. I can provide you with that, but it will be expensive….but I can see from your card details that won’t be a problem. When and where will you be requiring our escort?”

“I live in London, is that a problem?”

“Absolutely no problem, just give me the details and he will be there.”

“Is it possible to hire your escort for the whole day or even two days?”

There was a moment’s silence, then.

“It’s not our usual practice.”

“I can pay whatever you ask. I…I like to take my escorts shopping and other things.”

“Then it’s not a problem sir. Just give my receptionist the details and we will be there.”

“Can I have the name of my escort?”

“Of course sir. His name is Matthew.”

Dominic gave the details Thomas Kirk had given him and then ran for the bathroom and threw up…but Matthew was coming to London.

***********************

Matthew stared out of the car window, watching the fields and the traffic go by. Despite all the things he’d experienced since ‘working’ for Donnie, he felt nervous. Donnie had never taken him to a client; the client had always come to Manchester.

Whoever this client was, they must be very rich, or very rich and powerful to pay to hire him for two days. But it meant that Donnie had become super protective and he’d been escorted everywhere by two of Donnie’s men, and Donnie had spent more money on him than usual.

His bruise was hidden under make-up and his new clothes felt uncomfortable.

Donnie was talking at him.

“You behave with this client and do what you do best. We get him really into you, we can make a lot of money. Never thought about outside Manchester. I’m thinking of putting you on the international market, your looks will kill them.”

Matthew just nodded and continued looking out of the window. He tensed when the familiar landmarks of London began to roll by. Here were all his old fears, all his deepest nightmares.

The hotel was five star, if not six star.

“Should’ve charged him more,” Donnie said as they walked into the lobby. 

One of Donnie’s men went to the reception desk to book them in, and Donnie was all smiles and manners when the concierge showed them to their suite. But as soon as the door was closed, the real Donnie returned.

He grabbed Matthew by his jaw and stared into his eyes.

“You screw this up, Matthew and you’ll be working for Sammy. You remember him…yes, you do, don’t you. So, don’t screw this up.”

He let go of his jaw and smoothed the smudge make-up.

“Good boy….now, get me a whiskey."

*****************

Several hours later and Donnie’s warning seared into his mind, he stood at the door of the suite then client was staying in. He watched Donnie’s men walk off, and letting out a breath he knocked on the door.

He heard footsteps inside and he put on his ‘working’ face.

A dark haired man opened the door, and he started to say.

“Hello, my name is Matt…..”

The man suddenly grabbed him and pulled him inside…then he went crazy.

He kicked and punched the man that was trying to restrain him.

“Jesus, Matthew,” the man grunted as he tried to get his arms round the small tornado he seemed to have grabbed hold of.

“Bloody hell!” he swore when Matthew bit the hand that he was trying to muffle his shouts with.

Then another voice, one that made Matthew stop said.

“Enough, Thomas, he’s not a criminal. Matthew, stop this!”

The man finally got a grip on him and the fight went out of him, until he saw the face that went with the voice.

He felt the man holding him relax, and he took his chance.

He stomped hard on one of the man’s feet and whipped his head back, just like he’d learnt to do when he was just a ‘street boy’. He heard the satisfying crunch of cartilage and the man let go.

He went for the door, but to his horror it was locked.

“Donnie! Donnie!” he yelled, hoping that Donnie’s men or Donnie was within earshot.

Through his panic he heard another voice.

“I’m sorry,” it said and he felt something sharp against his skin….then oblivion.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They may have Matthew...but will they keep him, and can he be saved.

Dominic could only watch and follow as he saw what money and influence could do. Within minutes of them having a kicking and yelling spitfire that had been Matthew, they were heading out of the city with a sedated Matthew.

They were heading towards a place chosen by Thomas Kirk, one of the ‘security experts’. He felt Matthew move against his chest.

“How much longer?” he asked. “He’s starting to come round.”

“Ten minutes,” Dominic Anderson replied.

Matthew stopped moving and Dominic let out a sigh of relief; he really didn’t want to try and handle what would be a stressed and no doubt angry Matthew within the confines of a car. 

He was even more relieved when the car turned into a driveway, and Matthew was carried to one of the bedrooms. His tension rose again when he was left with Matthew, and the door was locked.

His work was about to begin, but Matthew was so broken, he didn’t know if he would ever be put back together.

Matthew started to move again, and this time his movements were more animated; he would be awake soon. So he sat in the chair by the bed and waited.

What seemed an eternity later, Matthew let out a groan and slowly opened his eyes. He looked confused, but only for a few moments.

He sat up and Dominic thought he saw tears forming in eyes that shouldn’t be marred by them. He also swore he could see a bruise on Matthews’ cheek, hidden by make-up…but now was not the time to ask about that.

“I’m sorry we had to kidnap you?”

Matthew looked at him, and if there had be any tears, they were now gone, and once more glacial blue orbs were directed at him.

“Then let me go.”

Dominic was a little taken aback at Matthew’s confidence, or was it false bravado?

“I can’t do that.”

“Then you’ll regret it.”

Was that a threat?

“Why would we regret it?”

“Because Donnie doesn’t like people taking what belongs to him.”

Okay, here we go…

“Is that what you think, that Donnie owns you?”

Matthew gave him a sharp look.

“I never said he owned me.”

Right, he doesn’t see it then.

“So why would he dislike it?”

“The clothes, the hair, the expensive watch, the jewellery. Donnie paid for them, so there Donnie’s. That and the services that are being   
wasted, time and money.”

Whoa, if this was false bravado, then Matthew had it in spades. Now he would have to dig deeper; it wouldn’t be pleasant.

“Services, does that include sex?”

Matthew shot a look at him, but didn’t reply.

“Of course it would, you are after all…..”

He was interrupted by Matthew, who snapped.

“I’m not one his street boys.”

Right, here we go. Let’s call a spade a spade and see what happens.

“Sorry, I apologise. You’re a high class rent-boy, you only screw rich punters.”

He grabbed Matthew’s jaw and turned Matthew’s head so he could see what was definitely bruise.

“Does that include letting them beat you up? Of course it would, high class or not, you’re just a….” 

Matthew wrenched free of his grip and now he definitely saw tears….angry tears.

“I’m not a whore!” he yelled and clambered off the bed and into the only open door; it was slammed shut behind him.

Dominic waited a few beats then walked over to the closed door.

“Matthew?”

He stepped back when the door moved, Matthew had either hit it or kicked it.

“Matthew, why are you angry? Is it because the truth hurts?”

The door moved again, definitely angry.

“Then I’m sorry if I was too honest, but you can’t deny it.”

He wasn’t expecting a reply…enough for now. Let Matthew think on it. He was about to move away when a voice came through the door.

“Please, you have to let me go.”

Dominic sighed...poor kid, how screwed up was this.

He moved closer to the door and sat with his back to it.

“Matthew, are you afraid that Donnie will blame you?” He paused before saying the next words. “Are you afraid he’ll hurt you?”

“No…yes…please,” came a faint reply.

“You know you’re safe here? He won’t find you.”

Then came a chilling reply, in a voice too much like the frightened young man he was.

“They always find me.”

************************

Donnie was not happy. For some reason he had the feeling that something was off about this, and he was right. As one of his men kicked in the hotel room door and he found the room empty, he knew.

He was all false tears and worry as he sat in the hotel manager’s office.

“He’s my brother’s kid…Christ, he’ll kill me if something’s happened to him. He’s only twenty.”

The manager was eager not to have police and press crawling over the hotel and had willing shown the distraught Donnie the CCTV. It clearly   
showed Matthew being carried out by a group of people.

He thanked the manager and said he would call the police himself, but not say he was taken from the hotel. Once they were in the car, one of his men said.

“I know the one that was carrying the kid. I did a stretch with him.”

“And who is he?” Donnie said.

“Thomas Kirk, runs an outfit out of London. Specialises in kidnapping. ”

“Find out who he did the job for,” Donnie said.

“Yes sir.”

He sat back, there was no way he was going to let this particular money spinner go….and when he got Matthew back he was going to put him on the market; someone would pay a lot for him, and whoever had taken him would never find him again.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's hope....but is Donnie's shadow looming large.

Dominic sighed, this wasn’t working. Matthew had been with them for a fortnight, but the only results he was getting was Matthew screaming insults…and it was getting worse.

Matthew was now refusing to eat, and he was keeping everyone awake with his kicking of the locked door. Dominic realised he was out of his depth. 

He needed help, so he called two of his friends from university.

“Dominic, how have you been?” Morgan said as he hugged him.

“I’m good. Is Kelly with you?”

“She’ll be here shortly, then we need to talk to the family.”

Morgan looked past Dominic and up at the stairs, when a rhythmic thumping started.

“I assume that’s Matthew?”

Dominic nodded, “Fraid’ so.”

“How long has he being doing that?”

“About a week.”

“And the not eating?”

“Three days.”

“Right, nothing too drastic yet. The family, are they here?”

“You know they’re not his real family.”

Morgan nodded, “We read up on Matthew before we accepted this. They may not be related, but they are family, and this is a decision that they will have to make on Matthew’s behalf.”

Dominic didn’t like the sound of that; he knew some of the method Morgan and Kelly used could be harsh, but he trusted them. Morgan and his sister Kelly were the best in the business and they were his friends.

****************

“You want to do what?” Phillip Wolstenhome said.

“We want to move Matthew to our treatment centre.”

“Why?” Chris asked.

“We have a permanent set up there, and the support that Matthew will need. But I need signed permission. Dominic called us because his expertise is in helping victims of abuse after recovery has started, and ours is setting the person on the road to recovery. We can help Matthew, but it would be better if he was in our facility.”

“You may want to move him,” Phillip Wolstenhome said. “But I think Matthew might have something to say about having another needle anywhere near him.”

“Sir, leave that to my associate, she’ll get him to eat something and administer the sedative as well.”

The doorbell ringing stopped the conversation.

“That’ll be her now…..I have the papers, if you want to sign them.”

“I want Matthew back,” Mrs Wolstenhome said. “Sign the papers Phillip.”

**********************

Matthew stared at the door that refused to break, no matter how much he kicked it. He’d screamed himself hoarse, but to no avail. He was hungry, but he wasn’t going to eat the food they tried to give him.

It had made him angry when Dominic had suggested….no, accused him of being a whore. He wasn’t, Donnie had never called him that. He didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to face the demons that lurked in his past.

All he wanted to do was forget, and the life he had with Donnie did that, even if it meant that sometimes he had to do things he didn’t like; after all, it was what he deserved.

He heard voices outside, and backed away when the door was unlocked. He was surprised to see a woman walk in, carrying a plate.

She put the plate on the floor and he could see and smell the contents, and his stomach growled in anticipation.

“Hello,” the woman said and sat on the floor opposite him. “My name is Kelly and you must be Matthew.”

He eyed her with suspicion, people were only nice when they wanted something.

“I know, you think I want something…strangers bearing gifts and all that. But I’m a woman, not the kind of stranger you’re used to.”

She picked up one of the cookies and bit into it.

“Not laced with anything but chocolate chips…still warm. Do you want one?”

She pushed the plate forward, but he wasn’t going to be that easily tempted. But they did smell good, and he was very hungry. Despite his wariness, he inched forward, stealing a glance at the woman….oh, that cookie did look good.

He got within an arm’s length, then he snatched the cookie and scooted back.

The woman didn’t move until he’d retreated, then she got up and left, and it was only then that he took a bite from the cookie.

******************

The little group looked up when she entered the living room.

“Did he eat anything?” Morgan asked.

“I’ll go and check in a few minutes. But I suggest you get ready to move, just in case.”

“He’s not going to be happy about being drugged again,” Chris said.

Kelly smiled at him, “It’s the best and kindest way, less stress in the end. He’ll be out for a good twelve hours. He probably won’t remember much, it’s pretty strong stuff.”

“Are you certain that he’ll be safe there?” Mrs Wolstenhome said.

“Absolutely,” Morgan said.

****************

Donnie James was not happy. His man was having trouble finding out who ordered Matthew’s abduction. If it had been a rival sex-trader it would have been easy to find out, and he would have taken Matthew back; nobody stole from him.

He’d lost a lot of money in the time that Matthew has been missing, as the rich clients refused to have an alternative to him.

It began to creep into his mind that perhaps Matthew had gone willingly. If he had, when he got him back, he would get a very painful lesson in obedience; what was his remained his, and Matthew and whoever had taken him would be reminded of that.


	14. Chapter 14

“So, why did your family decide to foster Matthew?” Kelly asked.

Matthew was out cold, but on the floor, and Chris was trying to get a coat on him.

“The family were friends of ours. We couldn’t let him stay there…you know what that system is like.”

“But you didn’t adopt him?”

“We wanted to, but he was such a messed up kid, they wanted him to remain under their supervision.”

He finally managed to get the coat on, then picked him up.

“And that didn’t put your parents off?” 

“Nah, he deserved a chance at a better life. Besides, the first time we met, we sort of clicked. He’s my kid brother.”

It was going to be a long journey to the Nicholl’s facility, and Chris and Dominic were going with them.

********************

Once again Dominic found himself being used by Matthew as a pillow, and secretly and to his embarrassment, he found he liked it. Matthew was still the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

He pushed the thought away; it was never going to happen He wasn’t worried about the age difference, what were years if not just numbers. 

It was the fact that Matthew was so damaged, he doubted he would trust any man to have genuine feelings for him…and that was a crying shame, because Matthew deserved to know what love was and to be loved.

He distracted himself by talking with Morgan and Kelly.

“So, you and Justin didn’t work out?” Morgan said.

“Thankfully, it turned out he wasn’t right for me after all. But he was right for the person he cheated on me with.”

“And there’s been no-one else?” Kelly said.

“There might have been someone, once,” he replied and he glanced at Matthew.

Matthew suddenly let out a sigh…was he, surely not?

“Kelly, how long should he be out?”

“At least eight hours…why?”

“Cause’ I think he’s coming round.”

“He can’t be, are you sure?”

As if to prove Dominic right, Matthew let out a louder sigh and Dominic felt him tense against his shoulder, and he began having a deja-vu moment.

Ten minutes later and Matthew was definitely coming round. Chris now had his arm around Matthew, being stronger than Dominic.

“What….” Matthew suddenly said, albeit in a slurred voice. “Donnie…what you give me?”

“It’s alright, Matt, Donnie isn’t here,” Chris said, assuming he was confused.

Matthew fell silent for another ten minutes, but the next time he came round, he was anything but confused.

*****************

“Matt……stop it….please,” Chris said as he tried to hold Matthew still.

But Matthew was having none of it.

“Morgan, stop the car!” Dominic barked, as a bony elbow connected with his ribs….painfully.

The 4x4 swung into a lay-by and Chris physically dragged Matthew out of it; hoping to get a proper hold on him.

But it made it worse, as Matthew, seeing an opportunity to escape, fought even harder. He managed to escape Chris’s grasp and somehow   
got over a fence and into a field.

“Oh no you don’t!” Chris yelled and leapt the fence. He caught up within a few strides and rugby tackled Matthew to the ground.

“Get off me….get off me!” Matthew was screaming when the others caught up.

Dominic thanked god that it was still dark, or they might have had the police added to their problems; they were kidnappers after all.

“No bloody way, kid!” Chris was shouting and hauled him up, and was about to put him in an arm-lock, when Dominic said.

“No, just hold him. Matthew…..Matthew, look at me!”

When Matthew refused he stepped closer and grabbed Matthew’s jaw.

“Look at me….this isn’t helping. You can’t run, where are you going to go? There’s nothing but fields and Manchester is miles away.”

Matthew’s eyes flicked away from Dominic’s, but Dominic put more pressure on his jaw. He hated doing it, but he had to keep Matthew’s attention.

“Eyes on me, Matthew,” he said sharply.

Angry eyes were returned to his.

“You are going to get back in the car and you will not fight us. Is that clear?”

Those cerulean orbs flashed with anger and defiance, so he said again, putting an even harsher edge in his voice.

“Is that clear?”

He kept looking in Matthew’s eyes, hoping to see compliance…but no.

“Fine, have it your way…Chris.”

“Move it, Matt,” Chris said and pushed him forward.

They continued their journey, and somehow Matthew managed to keep space between himself and the other two passengers; but the temperature in the car definitely dropped a few degrees.

There was another struggle to get him out of the car, but this time there were two burly orderlies, and he was carried inside.

As soon as he was put in and locked inside a room, he began kicking the door.

“He’ll stop soon,” Morgan said. “There’ll be no-one to hear him. Come on, we need breakfast and coffee.”

******************

You’re an idiot, Matthew said to himself. Why did you trust that woman? Why did you trust any of them?

Now he was even further away from what had been his hiding place. His head was hurting from whatever they’d used to drug him. At least the stuff that Donnie gave him was for a purpose; it made him forget when…no, best not to think on those things.

Why did they want him to remember, when all it would do would cause him pain?”

When he was in Manchester, he’d been able to bury those memories deep inside, and was in some ways content…he eventually knew his place.

Now he’d been torn away from that, and all that pain came flooding back…why?

His anger drained away and he let out a distraught sob, allowing the tears to flow. He curled up on the bed and eventually he fell into an emotion fuelled sleep.

He woke sometime later and found it wasn’t just a bad dream…he was more of a prisoner now than he’d ever been back in Manchester.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh Matthew...............

“Matthew, sit down,” Morgan said. “The longer you do this, the longer we’ll be here, and I for one am not going to miss lunch.”

He watched Matthew as he continued to stare out of the window.

“Fine, if you want to stand, stand. So, tell me, how much did Donnie charge for your services?”

He saw Matthew’s spine straighten.

“There’s no place for niceties here, Matthew. Call it what you will, you were a rent boy.”

Finally, he got a reaction, as Matthew whipped round and hissed.

“I’m not…”

Morgan over-spoke him.

“Matthew, Donnie charged three thousand pounds, and I doubt it was for you to make polite conversation.”

Matthew narrowed his eyes, then turned away and continued looking out of the window.

“You may wear designer clothes, have a nice haircut…you may even be Donnie’s favourite. But you have sex with men for money, and that….”

Matthew’s outburst wasn’t unexpected.

“Shut up…shut up…shut up!”

Matthew was shaking, but Morgan couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or anger. But he knew it was enough for today. Time to temper the fire that he had just lit.

“Well, it’s nearly lunch time. If you can behave civilly, you can join us. Oh, just in case you were thinking of making a run for it, all the doors   
need swipe cards, and the windows are alarmed. So, do you want to join us for lunch, or be locked in your room again?”

****************

Dominic smiled as he watched Chris flirt with Kelly; they actually made a sweet couple.

His mind wandered to what was happening in Morgan’s office. He knew Morgan’s methods were in your face, but they got results.

But Matthew had multiple problems and was as stubborn as hell.

“You play bass guitar?” Kelly said.

“Yeah, used to play the drums, but I love playing the bass,” Chris replied.

They were preparing lunch and Dominic was supposed to be chopping tomatoes.

“Are you in a band?”

“Was, just a Uni, but you know, you move on.”

“Do you still play the drums, Dominic?”

“Sometimes, out of practice though.”

“Well, that’s two thirds of a band. Can you sing Chris, cause’ Dominic sounds like he’s strangling a cat.”

“Oi!” Dominic said.

“I can, but I haven’t got the front to be the lead.”

“What about Matthew, or don’t you know?”

Chris was silent for a moment.

“He plays piano, he’s brilliant, don’t know about singing. But he’ll never play in front of anyone.”

“That’s interesting, it could be useful,” Kelly said.

“Why?” Chris asked.

“Find something he enjoys and focus on that. Give him an anchor…like therapy.”

They were interrupted by the phones, which Kelly answered.

“Okay…yes, I’ll tell them.”

She put the phone down and said, “Matthew will be joining us, but don’t treat it as something special. Can you do that?”

“If it’s going to help him, then yeah,” Chris said.

Dominic nodded; he’d done this sort of thing before.

****************

Dominic and Chris were sitting at the dining table when Morgan entered, followed by Matthew. 

He didn’t look happy, but he seemed to have lost the belligerent attitude from the night before.

“So, Dominic, you brought a coffee shop?”

He took no notice when Matthew sat at the table.

“Yeah, sold my practice. Had to get out after that case in Southampton.”

“I saw that on the news, nasty business. I hear they still haven’t caught the ring-leaders. Can’t believe that was going on for twenty years,” Morgan said.

“Last I heard, they think the ring-leaders are in London. I don’t even want to think about how many more kids have been victims,” Dominic said.

“I know what I’d do if I caught any of them,” Chris said.

They all looked over when Matthew let out a snort.

“Something to say?” Morgan asked.

“Yeah…always get away, don’t they?”

“And who would they be?” Dominic asked.

Matthew just stared at him, then folded his arms and remained silent.

Kelly called from the kitchen and there was flurry of activity as food was dished up. She put a plate in front of Matthew, but he eyed it and her with suspicion.

“Looks like you’ll be playing the Wicked Queen in the local panto,” Morgan said.

“It’s not drugged, Matthew,” she said, but Matthew pushed the plate away.

“Here, have mine,” Dominic said and swapped plates.

Matthew watched him as he and the others began eating.

“How fast does that stuff work?” Dominic asked.

“Pretty quick,” she replied. “Couple of minutes.”

“See, not spiked,” Dominic said.

Matthew gave Kelly another look, then looked a Dominic, then picked up his fork.

***************

Dinner was soon over, but Matthew had hardly touched his food. He made to stand but hesitated. 

Was he asking for permission, Dominic thought?

“You don’t have to ask…not here,” he said. “Do you want to go back to your room?”

He saw Matthew’s eyes widen slightly; then there was a shake of the head.

“Well, I’ve got other work to do,” Morgan said.

“I’ll help Kelly with the dishes,” Chris said.

That left Dominic alone with Matthew, who now seemed to be ignoring him. Fine, he could play that game too.

He moved from the table to the sofa. He picked up a magazine and ignored Matthew.

He felt the sofa dip, but didn’t looked up. So, he couldn’t help jumping when Matthew said.

“Dominic?”

He looked up and jumped again…Matthew was way too close…and those eyes……

“Dominic?” Matthew said again, but this time the timbre of his voice as it said his name made Dominic’s heart beat faster.

“I saw the way you looked at me…back in London. You liked what you saw, didn’t you?”

Dominic couldn’t help the hitch in his breathing when slender fingers trailed along and up his thigh, stopping just short of his groin.

“You want me.”

Matthew’s voice was husky and now his lips were right against Dominic’s ear, and Matthew’s hot breath overrode his defences…even more so   
when Matthew’s teeth grazed his earlobe.

“I can make you feel so good.”

The way Matthew drew out the words went straight to his….then Matthew’s hand moved again and reached…what the hell!?

He shoved Matthew away.

“You little bastard!” he yelled, which brought Chris and Kelly out of the kitchen.

“Get him the hell away from me. He tried to get my swipe card by coming onto me!”

“Yeah, and you were so easy,” Matthew spat, as Chris grabbed him.

“Put him back in his room,” Kelly said

“Did you really think I’d want someone who’d fucked up my life!?” Matthew yelled as he was dragged out of the room.


	16. Chapter 16

Matthew had become a very good actor; he’d had enough practice. When Morgan had called him a rent-boy, he’d put the right amount of denial in his voice, and the right amount of anger in his ‘shut ups.”

When Morgan had told him the doors need swipe cards, he knew that avenue of escape was gone. But he still wanted out, and there were other ways of getting out of here; it was just a matter of trial and error.

If Morgan wanted him to be civil, he could do civility, but when they began talking about Southampton, he couldn’t resist a sarcastic comment. He knew exactly what had gone on in Southampton; some of the street boys and prostitutes he’d worked with had been victims of the Southampton gang.

But if the police thought they had broken the circle….then boy were they wrong, the hydra always grew another head; you had to stab in through the heart. He knew where the heart was…and it knew where he was.

That was why he wanted to get back to Donnie…Donnie was protection….the hydra was a coward underneath its scales and knew not to anger a dragon.

Now he was sat at the table, waiting for his chance….right, time to do what Donnie says I am so very good at.

He sat next to Dominic, who was pretending to ignore him.

He took a breath and said in what he called his work voice.

“Dominic?”

He moved closer and repeated Dominic’s name…only with more heat in his voice….he did find Dominic attractive….no, eyes on the prize Matthew. But he couldn’t stop the frisson of heat he felt when he ran his fingers up Dominic’s thigh…stop it.

But when he breathed into Dominic’s ear that Dominic wanted him, he found himself thinking that he wanted him too.

He slammed the door on his libido and carried on with his act and said in his most seductive tone.

“I can make you feel so good.”

Then he made his move, and got the result he wanted.

He waited until he couldn’t hear Chris’s footsteps anymore and took out his prize….Dominic’s phone.

He turned it on and dialled a number, then let out a cry that was part anger and part frustration; there was no bloody signal. He threw the phone away in disgust….but it wasn’t the no signal that bothered him.

It was the fact that when Dominic had called him a ‘little bastard’, it had hurt his feelings.

It had been a long time since someone had done that, not since…it was a long time since he’d had any feelings to hurt.

***********************

Dominic couldn’t stop shaking, he couldn’t believe what had just happened, and the fact that he had reacted to Matthew’s advances.

“You okay?” Kelly said.

He shook his head and she sat next to him, putting an arm round his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“What for?”

“I shouldn’t have….” 

“Don’t blame yourself. Matthew’s very attractive.”

“No Kelly…he’s just a kid…Jesus.”

“No, Dominic, he’s not. I think he stopped being a kid a long time ago.”

Dominic looked at her.

“That was learnt behaviour.”

Domini paled….dear lord.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Dominic, if anything it’s my fault. I’m the bloody expert, I should have seen the behavioural patterns. He was way too confident. At some time, and I hate to say it, he would have watched and learnt it from someone else...perhaps someone who he was going to replace, if his abuser or abusers tastes were for, well, we won’t go into that.”

“He said I ruined his life.”

“He was playing with your emotions….he was playing with all of us, he’s a smart one.Looks like the good guy, bad guy thing isn’t going to work on this one.”

They were both startled by the alarm going off; they looked at each other and then at Chris, who had come out of the kitchen at the sound of the alarm.

“Matthew!” the said together.

They found Morgan and the two orderlies already in Matthew’s room, but it was empty. There was only place he could have gone…the bathroom window.

“What the hell?” Morgan said.

Chris looked out of the window and not seeing Matthew or the distant figure of what would be a fleeing Matthew.

“Please, no….the roof, he’s on the roof.”

They ran down the stairs and it took way too long to get through the doors, as each one needed a swipe card.

They sprinted out in the gravel car park and they all looked up.

There was no sign of Matthew….had he already gotten off the roof…then one of the orderlies shouted.

“There!”

“Bloody hell,” Chris said.

Matthew was balanced precariously on the edge of the roof, looking down at something.

Dominic’s stomach turned…he had to act quickly.

“What’s down there”? he asked Morgan.

“There’s a flat section of the roof…but there’s no way he could jump that gap.”

“Do you have ladder long enough for me to get up there?”

************************

Matthew knew the alarm would go off when he opened the bathroom window; but he didn’t care, he wanted out. He was thankful for his small frame as the bathroom window wasn’t overly large.

He carefully stepped out onto the narrow ledge and looked down; no way out there then.

He looked up…that way then.

It was only a small gap between the window and the slanted roof, but it was still a gap….don’t think, just do. He jumped, knowing that all those years of escaping bullies by climbing walls and jumping over ditches would come in useful.

He scrambled up the tiled roof and took a few seconds to get his balance, then walked to the end of the roof…how the hell did cats do this?

He heard voices below him…oh well. Knew it wouldn’t be long before they knew where he had gone.

He heard something being placed against the side of the building….really, what idiot were they going to send and try to stop him.

******************

Dominic stood at the top of the ladder, trying not to think about how far it was to the ground. He could see Matthew, who was now standing at the edge of the roof….please, don’t let him try and jump.

He put a foot on the roof and as he did Matthew said.

“Why can’t you just let me go?”

Dominic finally put both feet on the roof and somehow managed to find his balance, and carefully inched his way towards Matthew.

“Don’t come any closer or I swear I’ll jump, and not onto the roof.”

“Matthew.”

“There’s a nice set of railings to the left…be a bit painful, but at least it won’t be messy. Well, not too messy.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you do that?” Dominic said.

“Freedom, I guess,” Matthew replied.

“From us?”

Matthew let out a short laugh.

“From bloody life, cause’ it really sucks.”

“And death is better?”

He had to keep Matthew talking….distract him from his precarious position on the roof.

“Can’t be any worse, can it?”

Dominic had to be careful now. Even if Matthew was only threatening to commit suicide, he couldn’t take that chance.

“For you maybe, but what about those left behind. What about Chris?”

“I won’t care, I’ll be dead,” came the reply.

Matthew sounded so matter-of-fact about it….so not good.

“Sure, but do you really want Chris to see that? Do you know what it’s like to see some you love lifeless and bleeding?”

He saw Matthew tense and his stomach lurched again when Matthew turned sharply. He sighed in relief when somehow Matthew managed to keep his balance.

“Have you? Because I have. I saw the burnt bodies of my family when the carried them out of my home, that’s three. Then there was Andy, beaten to death by some bastard punter. Shall I keep going?”

He was practically snarling the words, and getting dangerously close to the edge.

“Matthew, please come away from the edge.”

But Matthew was on a roll.

“Then there was Susan, choked on her own puke after taking some bad shit.”

He seemed to stop…Christ how much crap had this kid seen?

Matthew was speaking again, and now there was a mournful edge to his voice.

“Then there was Stevie, died in my fucking arms…stupid bastard. He loved bloody crack more than he loved me.”

He broke off again and turned away from Dominic.

Dominic tensed again….wait a minute, did he say loved?

“Matthew….”

He never got to ask the question because all hell broke loose.

In the distance he heard sirens…lots of sirens.

He took his eyes of Matthew, just for a second…but that was a mistake.

“You called the rozzers!” Matthew snarled. “Well, screw you!”

“No!” Dominic cried and made a desperate lunge for Matthew as he jumped.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matthew really isn't well...and Donnie gets exactly what he wants.

Dominic woke with a start and then there was intense pain.

“Easy there,” a voice said; it was Chris.

“Where?” Dominic said, looking round; he was in hospital.

“Just lay still,” Chris said.

The next thought that came into Dominic’s head was.

“Matthew?”

“Don’t worry about him, worry about yourself. You’ve got a broken shoulder and six cracked ribs.”

Ah, that would explain the pain, but he needed to know.

“Chris…what about Matthew?”

He could see that Chris looked tired and stressed. His stomach lurched….please…no.

“Is he dead?”

A look of horror crossed Chris’s face.

“No, Christ no. He made the jump, you missed him and hit the roof. He actually got off the roof and made a run for it, but they caught him.”

Relief flooded through Dominic, but he felt that something was wrong.

“Chris, is he okay?”

“I…Jesus…they took him to A&E because had some cuts and scrapes from getting off the roof. They didn’t see it, but I did….there was something not right. His eyes, they were vacant.”

Dominic’s stomach lurched again as Chris continued.

“They didn’t know how he…..”

Chris stopped and Dominic could see he was reliving whatever had happened.

“Chris, what happened?”

“He’d gotten hold of a scalpel…he…oh god, he cut one his wrists. It was sheer luck that a nurse walked just as he was going for the other   
one. It was horrible…there was so much blood.”

Chris had paled and he once again stopped for a few moments.

“But you know what was worse?”

Dominic didn’t think there could be anything worse.

“After they stopped the bleeding, it was like he didn’t know he’d done it. When they asked him why he did it, he asked if he could go home soon. He’s ill Dom…so very ill.”

***********************

Matthew hadn’t expected it to be Dominic that had climbed onto the roof after him. His conversation with Dominic had opened old wounds; painful ones.

Why did it seem like death was his constant companion, like it was waiting for him. He’d lost friends and fellow street workers to its cold grip. 

Then there had been Stevie; he’d loved that stupid junkie.

He’d tried to help, even brought clean needles and heroin with his ‘services’, and he would bear the scars from that till it was his turn to greet Death. But in the end his love hadn’t been enough, and Stevie had died in his arms, in that stinking alleyway.

It was then that his heart started to grow cold, because he didn’t want to feel that sort of pain ever again.

Then he’d been taken by Donnie and his heart grew even colder as he saw more and more of what lay beneath the shiny veneer of life, and he discovered he had another ‘talent’, one that Donnie exploited. 

Matthew was very good at blackmail.

Donnie had once called him a ‘cold hearted little bastard’ and he hadn’t disagreed, and he was happy having no heart to hurt.

Then he’d been yanked back into a life that brought back all the pain, and he found his heart wasn’t as cold as he’d wished.

He’d stood on the edge of the roof and he’d actually hesitated, as the part of him that wanted to run and the part of him the wanted affection battled for supremacy. His head swam with it, but then sirens cut through the confusion and anger had run roughshod over everything.

After that he really didn’t know what happened; it was like he was detached from himself... then there was a dull pain and shouting and someone snatching something from his hand.

Now he was sitting in his ‘room’…..yeah right…the ‘room’ with the locks and no keys….oh and the face appearing at the small window every thirty minutes.

Suicide watch…please, he wasn’t crazy. He sighed and scratched absently at the bandage on his wrist and when the face appeared at the window again, he asked once more when he could go home.

*********************

Donnie had resigned himself to the fact that he’d lost his little money maker; there hadn’t been a sighting since the hotel, and it seemed like no one knew or pretended not to know who had paid for Matthew to be kidnapped.

Now he was having to resort to less subtle methods to keep certain people paying for his silence. He was actually beginning to miss the kid…not in that way…never…and if anyway said he was, then they paid for it.

But for some reason he did…damn that little sexy arse of his.

He was surfing through the local newspaper websites; he liked to see what was going on in other criminal patches, any weakness and he could move in.

He stopped when he saw something on one particular site, and a broad smile crossed his face.

“So, that’s where you are, no wonder no-one knew where you were, my little money maker.”

He picked up his mobile.

“Sonny, yeah, Donnie here. I’ve found our little bird and I found out something very interesting. I think it’s time a certain family remembered their duty to look after their own.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominic looses Matthew.........

Two weeks later Dominic was discharged and he returned to his home town to continue his recuperation. But all the time he was thinking of Matthew; he couldn’t get those striking eyes and cut glass cheekbones out of his head.

It didn’t matter to him that there at least a decade and Matthew’s obvious mental health between them, he knew he had to have Matthew in his life. It had been a long time since he’d felt anything. Not since that idiot had broken his heart.

But Matthew…oh that messed up beautiful blue-eyed creature…Jesus, he has my heart already and he hardly knew him.

He sighed, why couldn’t it be like all those movies you see, and the good guy always gets his just reward?

It was another three weeks before he returned to London and he was glad to be back in his own home. The first thing he did was ring the coffee shop, and he was assured by the temporary manager that he’d hired and the Wolstenholme’s had paid for, that the shop was fine.

An hour later the doorbell rang and he found Suzy and Julie, the girl who had chased Danny Johnson away at his doorstep.

“So glad you’re back, how are you?” Suzy asked.

“I’m okay,” he replied.

“Well, that’s a fib to start with. How could you be? That was an incredibly brave thing you did.”

Dominic shrugged, “Really? Look where Matthew is now. Is that really better?”

Julie put a hand on his arm.

“Dominic, that life he had in Manchester, it wasn’t good. I can’t imagine what he must have been made to, makes me feel ill.”

“ But at least he wasn’t locked up,” Dominic replied.

“Not for much longer,” Suzy said.

“What do you mean?”

Suzy handed him a paper. He blinked at the words.

‘Local boy, Matthew Bellamy (20), the only survivor of a tragic house fire and rejected by his closet relatives, has finally found a family, after   
ten years.”

“But they didn’t want to know him,” Dominic said.

“It’s not them, it some distant cousin. Didn’t even know about the fire or about Matthew. He’s a real saint, offered to pay for Matthew to have treatment at a private clinic. That was last week, he’s being released into his cousin’s care today.”

For some reason a chill went through him…please, it couldn’t be.

“This cousin, what’s his name?”

“Hang on…let me think. I can’t remember his second name, but his first name was Donnie.”

Dominic had to reach for the nearest chair and sit down before he passed out.

“Dominic, are you okay?”

He took a shuddering breath and said.

“Oh Matthew…I’m sorry.”

*************************

Matthew had given up asking when he could go home. He was beginning to realise that no-one was listening. It looked like he’d escaped from one prison and into another.

He wanted to go back to Manchester, where life was, well…not uncomplicated, but there was no responsibility and he knew where he stood. 

He had everything he wanted and was well cared for, even if it meant he had to cope with Donnie’s moods.

His thoughts had also been drifting towards his conversation with Dominic, and once again he had that flutter in his heart…bloody emotions again.

He shouldn’t feel anything…not after Stevie, but there it was. He felt something for Dominic, he wasn’t sure what it was, but he wished he didn’t; it just complicated things.

Then he was told that someone, a family member had come to rescue him. What family member; they hated him.

He was sitting in the small waiting room, not sure what he should be feeling. But at least he would be getting out of this place, and he could always run …Manchester wasn’t that far.

He could hear the voice of the psychiatrist, he was talking to someone.

“He’s in here, but please be aware that Matthew seems quite indifferent to the circumstances of him being admitted. But I’m sure the clinic you intend to place him in are aware of this.”

“Oh, absolutely. Rest assured, Matthew will get the best treatment. He is family after all.”

Matthews knew that voice, and he knew he was going somewhere he belonged.

The door opened and in he came…Donnie.

“I’ll give you a moment,” the psychiatrist said.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

As soon as the door was closed, Donnie smiled.

“Hello, little bird.”

***********************

Dominic willed the taxi driver to go faster, but the London traffic was a bitch; he wasn’t going to get there in time.

The taxi finally pulled up outside the gates of the hospital and Dominic began to run. He saw what looked like a Humvee coming towards him and stop at the security barrier.

“Yes, taking Matthew Bellamy to….”

Dominic didn’t hear the other name, but he knew damn well exactly where Matthew was going.

He stopped as the huge vehicle moved and then it suddenly stopped and one of the windows was wound down…and there was Donnie.

“Well, well…it’s our London client, isn’t it? Oh, I know who you are, and please don’t try and persuade my little bird to come away from me.”

Dominic somehow found his tongue.

“I’d like to hear that from Matthew.”

Donnie smiled, but it was a shark’s smile.

“Of course…Matthew.”

Donnie leant back and allowed Dominic to look inside.

“Matthew… what are you doing?”

“What I want to,” came the reply.

“Matthew…please, don’t.”

“Go away, Dominic,” Matthew said.

Donnie moved back into Dominic’s vision, blocking Matthew from his view.

“I think Matthew has made himself clear. Good day…oh and if you try and come after my little bird again…you will feel my talons.”

The window was closed on him and the Humvee moved off, taking Matthew and Dominic’s heart with it.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This closes this particular chapter in Matthew's life, but he still has other demons to face...and how he feels about Dominic

“I don’t want to, it hurts.”

“Stop whining, I paid for this.”

“I don’t…please.”

Matthew tried to squirm from under the man, but strong hands grabbed his wrists. He didn’t want this, it made his stomach turn. He let out a cry when the man put pressure on already bruised flesh.

“Please,” he said and once again tried to get away.

The man back-handed him.

“Little bitch, give me what I want,” the man growled.

Matthew shook his head and the negative was one refusal too far for the man. The next blow stunned him, and he couldn’t fight the man anymore.

He woke sometime later when he felt something cold against his face; it was Jamie, one of the other boys.

“Mattie honey, you need to go to A&E.”

Matthew shook his head.

“Sweetie, your face is a mess and god knows what else he did before we heard your screams and pulled him off you.”

“Does Donnie know?” he asked and winced as a sharp pain ran across his left cheek.

“No, you know he’s in Moscow. But never mind him, you seriously need to go to hospital…..bloody hell, is that a bite?”

“No hospital, I’ll be okay.”

“Mattie, I can only clean you up so much, it could get infected.”

Matthew shrugged his shoulders, if it did, it did. Jamie had no idea what was going on, why Donnie was in Moscow; he did.

Donnie had sold him and to some Eastern European flesh-peddler.

“Made a good profit,” were Donnie’s words.

Matthew had shed a lot of tears in his bed that night. He heard about this man and about his clients, and he didn’t want the short life he would have, nor the brutal way it would probably end. 

At one time he wouldn’t have cared, but since he’d been back with Donnie he’d found he no longer liked what he’d become, and he hated himself even more….and he found himself thinking more and more about Dominic.

He knew that he would never see him again, as he would be leaving the UK for good, once Donnie had finalised the deal with his new owner.

Both of then jumped when they heard lots of shouting.

Another of the boys, one they didn’t recognise ran into the room.

“Vice squad….run for it!”

“Go,” Matthew said.

“No, I’m not leaving you for the pigs.”

“Jamie, go now…make a break for it.”

“Mattie,” Jamie said.

Matthew shoved something in Jamie’s hands.

“This is that bastard’s wallet…go home, find a better life….bloody go!” he yelled.

Jamie had only just left, when Matthew heard the stomp of feet on the landing; he couldn’t run, and he didn’t want to.

He did exactly as the armed officer told him to do, and tried not to wince at the pain when he was handcuffed. 

*********************

Dominic couldn’t help but gloat as he’d watched the news.

“Well known Manchester business man Donnie James was arrested today when he arrived at Heathrow Airport. Scotland Yard said he is being questioned over allegations that he is involved in or is directly responsible for a large sex trade ring in Manchester and beyond. There were also multiple raids on certain properties and there were over thirty arrests, including at least a dozen sex workers, believed to be male and in their late teens and early twenties. There are no more details at the moment but we will bring you any further developments as more is known. It is believed that there may have been some high profile figures included in the arrests, but we cannot confirm that at this time.”

Dominic wasn’t sure how it had come about, but he was glad that someone had turned in Donnie. He didn’t care who, if it meant that   
Matthew would be away from the evil bastard.

Now he was sitting in a police station with the Wolstenholmes’, waiting for Matthew to be brought back from the hospital.

They had been told that he had injuries, but they were not related to his arrest. The Wolstenholme’s solicitor had pleaded a good case for   
Dominic to be there, as Matthew mental state was fragile, and had insisted that once he was brought back for questioning, that Dominic, who was there as a professional counsellor be allowed to sit in on the interview.

He’d gone back into counselling, partly out of guilt over…actually mostly out of guilt over Matthew, and to make sure that other vulnerable young boys didn’t end up like Matthew.

“Mister Howard, Mister Simon, we’re ready for you,” the custody sergeant said.

He sat in the interview room, trying to calm his nerves; it was a long time since he’d done this, and to make it worse it was Matthew.

He looked up and had to clamp his mouth shut to stop a gasp leaving his mouth. Matthew looked bloody awful; they’d said injuries, but he looked like he’d been in a prize fight.

“Mister Bellamy should be in a hospital, not a police cell,” the solicitor was saying.

“Mister Bellamy has been passed as fit enough for questioning.”

“Physically yes, but what about his mental state.”

“That’s why Mister Howard is present. However, Mister Bellamy has refused to speak, and has since his arrest.”

Dominic spoke then, “Mister Bellamy suffers from trauma related muteism and hasn’t spoken for over a decade. You won’t get any verbal   
statements from him.”

“What are you charging him with?” the solicitor asked.

“Soliciting mostly, but we believe Mister Bellamy may have information that can assist in our enquiries into Donnie James.”

“That’s highly unlikely, I believe Mister Bellamy was a victim of Donnie James.”

“We’re inclined to believe that Mister Bellamy has been complicit in other activities.”

“Such as?”

“Blackmail….extortion…petty theft.”

“Do you have any evidence?”

“We suspect, as none of the alleged victims seem willing to come forward.”

“And the soliciting?”

“The property where Mister Bellamy was arrested is a brothel.”

“But you have no actual proof that Mister Bellamy was actually involved in soliciting?”

“No, but we can’t just let Mister Bellamy go.”

“And why is that?”

“We believe that Mister Bellamy can provide us with information on Donnie James’ business.”

“I need to talk to my client,” the solicitor said. “Ten minutes.”

As soon as the two detectives had left, Dominic said, “He can’t stay in a cell, he’ll go ballistic.”

The solicitor nodded.

“Matthew, did you do the things that they claim?”

Matthew nodded and dropped his head…that was new, Dominic thought. Was it guilt or shame?

“And do you know anything about Donnie James’s business?”

Matthew nodded again.

“Okay, are you willing to give a written statement?”

Once again Matthew nodded.

Dominic wanted to know why Matthew was willing to turn against Donnie.

“Matthew, don’t feel pressured by the police, you don’t have to.”

Dominic thought he saw fear in Matthew’s eyes.

Matthew reached for the solicitor’s pen and paper and wrote something down and shoved it a Dominic, and when he read it he knew why.

*****************

Several hours later they left the police station, with Matthew out on bail, but with severe restrictions. If he did have to go out, he would be accompanied either by a member of the Wolstenholme family or Dominic and had to report to the local station every other day.  
Dominic knew he should have felt relieved, but he knew this was just the start. There was the trial, whenever that would be, but that was secondary to the other thing.

Matthew had other issues…ones that Dominic knew had to be dragged kicking and screaming into the light…that and the growing feelings he had for Matthew.

 

To be continued in “the Silence is Deafening”


End file.
